


The Part That Counts

by YoureonaStarship (InkAndFig)



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, F/M, Reader Insert, Romance, reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-07 02:31:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 22,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11049459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkAndFig/pseuds/YoureonaStarship
Summary: Two weeks after waking up with no recollection of the people and ship around you, you take your future in your hands and try to piece together your past and the events that lead up to you losing your memory of the last five years. This means finally meeting Scotty, the man you just learned is your husband.  Rated for Chapter 9.





	1. She Used to Look at Me Like That

**Author's Note:**

> Although this is far from my first work; this is my first work that I'm posting here. I am really proud of how this piece has turned out, and I am really excited for feedback, so if you're feeling kind, please share your thoughts with me.
> 
> I really hope you enjoy this piece; it's been a lot of fun to work on.

Scotty looked up at exactly the wrong moment. Jim made a joke and the whole table burst into laughter, including you. Your beautiful eyes crinkled up and your unapologetic smile bared your gleaming teeth. You simply shone.

Scotty couldn’t even bring himself to laugh when you laid your hand on Jim’s arm, steadying yourself as you calmed. Scotty’s heart clenched painfully.  
And then there was Jim, that bastard, not that it was his fault, leaning in and laughing with you, tickled to make you smile so beautifully.

Scotty mumbled an excuse and stood, dropping his napkin on his tray and leaving the table at a steady stumble, trying to navigate through the pounding of blood in his ears.

The hallway rang with silence as the mess hall doors closed behind him. Scotty looked up and down the hall, completely lost. He’s walked every single hall of this wonderful ship with you on his arm and now… what’s a man to do without you? How could he possibly move on and find some semblance of peace when you were in there laughing like that with Kirk of all people? Captain Fucking Perfect Hair with all his goodman charm and warmth…

“Scotty?”

He turned around to find that Uhura had followed him out.

“I’m sorry,” he started, wiping at his face, just now realizing that he was crying.

“Don’t be,” Uhura reached out and touched his elbow. “Come on.”

She gently pulled Scotty down the hall away from the mess.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” she asked.

“No,” Scotty’s voice cracked and he raised a hand to his face to hide the tears that overflowed. ‘“‘S jus’… she used tae look a’ me li’ tha’.”

“I know,” Uhura said, wrapping an arm around Scotty’s shoulder and rubbing his arm.

“I though’ I was ready to see her again, but she's… she’s moving righ’ on…”

“Have you talked to her yet?” Uhura urged.

“Wha’ am I supposed ta say? I dinna want her to feel obligated to come back to me -”

“No, but Scotty, if you don’t even put your hat in the ring she’ll never know,” Uhura said. “You have to talk to her. Especially before Kirk does something.”

“I really didn’t think he would…” Scotty sniffed. “I mean, he knows, of course…”

“He doesn’t want to do anything about it,” Uhura said. “He told me. He’s just trying to make her feel at ease. But she’s starting to flirt and I’m afraid that if you don’t do something you’re going to lose your second shot.”

Scotty slowed to a stop for a moment, burying the heels of his hands into his eye sockets.

“I don’ know wha’ I’m more upset about,” he mumbled. “Her going after Kirk now or… or the fact that I didn’ get a chance to say goodbye.”

“Do you want her back?” Uhura asked.

“I go’ her a’ a good time,” Scotty said, dropping his hands. “I was still young enough to put on a good show of it. But I’m not wha’ I was when we met… she wouldn’t want me now, no’ when she’s no reason to look past me anymore.”

“Come on,” Uhura punched his arm lightly. “You’ve been doing that ‘old man’ song and dance too much lately. Give yourself some credit. Y/N fell in love with you for who you are, all of you, not just how you look. Not because of how old or young you were or are. If you love her, fight for her.”

“Aye,” Scotty sniffed, reaching up to rub the back of his neck nervously. “I do love her still, I jus’ don’ wanna scare her away.”

As Uhura opened her mouth to respond, you stepped into view at the end of the hall. You stopped in your tracks when you saw Scotty’s red-rimmed eyes and blotchy face.

“Sorry -” you started, taking a step back.

“Shit,” Scotty hissed, taking off in the other direction.

You looked at Uhura and bit your lip as the engineer disappeared around the corner. When Uhura met your eyes, you knew it wasn’t the two of them that had a problem. Everyone was looking at you like this, with pity and unease on their faces.

“Have I done something?” you asked quietly. It wouldn’t be the first time this week you’d upset someone. Wouldn’t be first time today.

“No,” Uhura said, reaching for your hand.

“It’s something I forgot, isn’t it?” you winced, letting her lead you back the way you came.

“Do you like Jim?” Uhura asked.

“Am I not supposed to?”

“What ever happened or didn’t happen before now shouldn’t matter,” Uhura reassured you. “You have the right to do what makes you feel happy and safe right now.”

“What’s this about? And why is Scotty upset? It is Scotty, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is,” Nyota nodded, biting her lips.

“Were he and I…?” you trailed off.

Uhura looked at the floor.

“He seems a little old for me…” you mused, a wave of panic running through you at the pained look on Uhura’s face. “But age isn’t everything, right?”

“Have you talked to him since you woke up?”

“Scotty? No,” you admitted, furrowing your brow. “I sort of thought he was avoiding me.”

“Ugh, I promised I wouldn’t do this,” Uhura grumbled, pinching her nose before stopping you in the middle of the hallway. “If you can try to… listen, a lot changed for all of us when this happened.”

“I know,” you nodded, feeling that sinking guilt in your gut come crawling back.

“It’s not your fault, and we’re all here for you right now,” Uhura reassured you, taking your arms in her hands. “But… if you can be patient with him - he’s not the best at opening up when he’s got his mind set - you need to try talking to him.”

You licked your lips.

“How involved were we, Nyota?”

Uhura groaned as if this knowledge was physically hurting her.

“And what’s he got his mind set on? I need something to go on if I’m going to just start talking to this guy…”

“He…” Uhura sighed. “He doesn’t want to make you feel obligated to do anything. You’re getting a fresh start right now, and he doesn’t want to push you anywhere you don’t want to go.”

“So we were together, then?” you asked.

“Y/N… it’s… you were married. Are married, technically.”

Your arms went numb and your jaw clenched. Married.

“You need to go talk to him,” Nyota urged.

“I need to go…” you mumbled. “Meet him, I suppose…” You fisted a hand in your hair. “What’s he even like? I need something to go on…”

“Right now?” Nyota asked with a sad look in her eye. “Pretty broken.”

“Because I was talking with Kirk?”

Nyota nodded.

“Where’s his room?”


	2. The Part That Counts

Waiting in silence until the door opened, you willed your pounding heart to shut up. The first time you ever saw this man was this evening at dinner when he sat down at the far end of the table near Uhura. You barely even remembered what his face looked like.

The door swished open. And Scotty stood there, pink-faced and damp from crying.

“Christ, she told ya didn’ she,” Scotty covered his eyes.

“I sort of made her,” you said softly. “Can I come in?”

Scotty made a noise halfway between a sigh and a whine and flung his arm to his side, letting you in.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, realizing what you just asked the man. “I suppose I live here, don’t I?”

“Aye,” he breathed.

You stepped past him into the room, your heart still pounding a deafening tattoo against your ribs hoping that something here would trigger a memory.

The room seemed to be barely lived in. Every surface was utterly spotless, the furniture was all tucked in, a stack of PADDs neatly arranged on the kitchenette counter. The duvet was crumpled in the middle of the bed and an errant pile of uniform shirts cluttered the floor at the foot of the night stand, the only signs that the room was even occupied. There was an enormous impressionist piece above the bed; a yellow moon in a deep blue sky.

“Van Gogh,” you said, pointing. “It’s one of my favourites.”

“Aye,” Scotty whispered, awkwardly clasping his hands behind his back.

“I’m sorry -”

“Ya don’ need ta apologize, please,” Scotty insisted, bringing his hands to his front and gesturing palms down for you to stop.

“But I don’t remember,” you groaned, lifting a hand to hold your opposite elbow. “I was so important to you… am so important to you…”

“God, lass, please,” Scotty dug his fingers into his eyes. You bit your tongue, knowing you were saying the wrong things. “I dinna want ya ta feel obligated ta come back; you’re goin’ through enough as it is…”

As Scotty rambled on, his accent getting thicker with emotion as he went, you got lost in the music of his brogue. It wasn’t familiar, but it was beautiful. A tiny, guilty pang of affection sparked in your chest.

“… saddled with an old sod li’ me -”

“Hang on,” you held up a hand, trying to keep your conversation with Uhura in mind. She’d been right after all, even if she didn’t say it in so many words. You married this flustered man for a reason, and it had to be enough to trump his age. And by the set of his back, you guessed that wasn’t quite as old as the lines around his eyes made him look. “If that didn’t matter before, it doesn’t matter now.”

Scotty’s whole body went limp for a moment. He stared at you slack-jawed for a moment before his face contorted.

“‘M sorry,” he muttered, turning away from you and covering his face with his hands.

The seconds ticked by with the shaking of his shoulders. You considered leaving, maybe this was too much too fast. The knotting in your stomach certainly indicated it was. But you couldn’t leave him, not like this.

“Hey,” you muttered lamely, stepping forward.

Putting a hand on his shoulder was out of the question. You wound around him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in tight. He was warm and he smelt like steel and black tea. You tucked your nose into the side of his head and rubbed slow circles on his back.

As strongly as the voice in the back of your head shouted that this was a bad idea, you had to tamp that instinct down. Whether you knew him or not, this man needed you right now and you couldn’t let him down.

“Hey,” you repeated. “Part of me is still here,” you swallowed. “It might not be the part that counts, but it’s something.”

“Don’ say tha’.”

“Don’t say what?”

“The part tha’ counts,” Scotty pulled back and pawed at his face. “You jus’… God, you jus’ proved tha’s no’ gone anywhere.”

You blinked at the man in your arms and pressed your lips together between your teeth.

“But I don’t -”

“No,” he shook his head and wiped his eyes before finally meeting yours earnestly. “You’re still… you’re still you. Through and through,” he hiccoughed and sucked in a sharp breath, reaching up to touch your arm with soft fingers before retracting his hand.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you forced a smile, even though the gesture sent a warning flash through your body.

You chewed your lip and looked around the room, your eye landing on the couch. After nearly two weeks spending every day with McCoy and Chapel trying to sort out the blockage in your memory, you were starting to get impatient. And then here’s this man, torn to pieces for the loss of his wife. For the loss of you, apparently. McCoy didn’t directly say not to talk to anyone about your past, so you might as well start here.

“How about this?” you started. “I think I should go. Let you gather yourself. Tomorrow, I’ll be with McCoy from 0900 to about 1500. When’s your shift up?”

“1700.”

“I’ll come by here then. I think I can safely say we’re after the same thing,” you flashed a grin which, much to your happiness, Scotty half-reciprocated. “Let’s talk tomorrow. About everything. I want to know you and I want to know what I’m coming from. Maybe we can strike on something together. How’s that sound?” You stuffed down the nervousness before continuing. “It might take some time,” you ventured, the voice screaming at you to stop talking. “But if we did it once, maybe we can do it again.”

“Only if you want,” he said as firmly as he could. The uneasy feeling faltered, knowing that you weren’t the only nervous one. “You say the word and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Let’s talk tomorrow.”

You finally released him and touched your fingertips to his arm reassuringly one last time before leaving the room, sparing one last look at the Starry Night above the bed.


	3. Astrometrics

The threat of hyperventilation bubbled in your chest until you got back to your temporary quarters and securely locked the door. Pressing your back against the steel, you slid to the floor and cupped your head in your hands and took a shuddering breath. Five years, gone.

These people… they showed you so much kindness, concern, but you didn’t know a single face aside from Kirk and Spock and only then because their faces were plastered all over the Enterprise propaganda when you enlisted.

And Scotty… Uhura was right. You’d never seen a grown man cry like that. All you wanted to do was promise him it would all be okay, but what would those words do coming from the mouth of his own wife? And then, you weren’t sure you could make it sound convincing in your state, when every touch made you want to recoil, to protect yourself from this stranger. Guilt tore at your stomach. He didn’t seem like that kind of man, but you couldn’t keep the thoughts from forming.

When you looked at him, you saw nothing. He was a perfectly average looking man, or at least you assumed he’d be if you saw him without red-stained eyes. You didn’t take a close enough look over dinner; you wished you had. His face, his voice, his home meant nothing to you. Like you’d just met for the first time.

What now? you mused.

It took the better part of these two weeks to figure out how to get from sick bay to your quarters to the mess without having to ask directions. And the people… you saw the sad, uneasy side-eyes they gave you. They all knew so much.

You realized that you shook. Tearless sobs wrenched your body around.

You wanted your family, your friends, but where were they? Were they even still alive? Five years is a long time. Each moment brought more dread until there was a sudden knock on your door.

You gasped and scrambled up, opening the door to Jim.

“Oh,” you managed.

“You alright?” Jim asked. “You said you’d be back for the poker game.”

In that moment you hated him. He looked at you with so much knowledge in his eyes, quietly understanding the scope of your situation while you suffered alone. And his damn goodwill, trying to make you come to a poker game to “feel at ease” or some garbage as if your comfort now wasn’t rendering the rest of the damn ship out of sorts.

“I just met Scotty,” you sighed, twining your fingers together hard.

Jim sighed too, closing his eyes sympathetically.

“And?”

“And?” You threw your hand up and raised your voice. “And I have no clue who that man is! If I hadn’t’ve just broken bread with him I’d’ve walked straight past him in the hallway!”

“Y/N…”

“And you! You let me embarrass myself in front of not only him, but everyone else at that table who presumably knows I’m married -”

“Stop, stop,” Jim waved his hands at you. “I should’ve stopped you; I’m sorry. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Well look where we are now!” you snapped, taking another fistful of your hair. “God!”

“Look, can I come in?” he asked softly.

“No,” you said. “No.”

Jim licked his lip before biting it.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Good for you,” you hissed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Can we go to a rec room then?” he held out a hand. “I want to help you your way. What do you need to know?”

“What do I need to know? Are you kidding me?” you flung your arms down. “Fine. Let’s just walk. I’m talking to Scotty tomorrow, so we’re not talking about that.”

“Alright,” Jim agreed, tucking his hands securely behind his back.

You stepped out of the room and let the door slide shut behind you. Jim lead you down the hall.

“What do you want to talk about?” he asked. “Your job?”

“My family,” you said before you could think.

“They’re all safe -”

“Do they know?” you asked.

“We haven’t informed them yet,” Jim admitted. “We haven’t been in a good place to get personal transmissions back home lately.”

“Fantastic,” you wiped at your face. “Go on.”

“Um, your parents are still well. Living in Montreal, as of last year. Your father got an associate professorship at McGill. Your sister’s at the Academy in San Francisco.”

You sucked your teeth. Their lives were normal. They were alive.

“You said you remembered enlisting,” Jim ventured. “Do you remember graduation?”

“I don’t even remember starting classes.”

“Okay,” Jim sniffed. “Well, you’re welcome to view your record at any time, you know that, but I’ll give you the short version. You graduated in the top ten percent of your class, astrometrics. You’re a Lieutenant, but you knew that already. Your initial assignment was to the USS Washington, but we put in a request to have you transferred. I put in a request to have you transferred.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve got a research focus that was being wasted on that ship. You’re bright and I thought, I still think you can achieve great things here.”

“If I remember how to do my job.”

“I think you’d be surprised,” Jim smirked. “Please.”

He gestured to the turbolift.

“Where are we going?”

“The living decks are only so interesting,” Jim quipped. “I want you to see where you work. Where you spend your time.”

“I think I’d prefer someone else showing me where I spend my time,” you felt a tear of spite rend through you. After the debacle tonight, you weren’t exactly trusting of the captain to show you your personal life.

“The lab, then,” he suggested.

“Fine.”

You stepped onto the turbolift behind him and he took you up several decks before the doors swished open.

“After you,” he gestured.

You got off and followed Jim down the hall to a wide door labeled “Astrometrics.”

“This is your baby,” Jim said. “We didn’t have half the equipment and data in here before you started. You’ve made this lab state of the art and indispensable.”

“I thought Enterprise was supposed to be a state of the art ship intent on exploring uncharted space.”

“We are. That’s why I had to have you on my crew.”

“Stellar,” you muttered, tapping the pad by the door. It lit up asking for a code. Your fingers hovered over the touch keys, but nothing came to mind.

Jim sighed and reached past you, keying in his own code.

“Sorry, I hoped -”

“It’s fine,” you breathed.

The door slid open and your heart clenched.

The room bore a broad, curved touchscreen interface with three consoles in front of it.

“Wow,” you whistled.

“You developed all the software you use in here; well, you and a team did, anyway.”

“Was Scotty on that team?”

Jim was silent for a moment.

“He was. Are you aware that he’s our Chief Engineer?”

“I was not, no,” you said, stepping into the room and looking up at the screen. It showed a beautiful view of space. The ship seemed to be orbiting around a planet similar to Saturn with glittering concentric rings.

“What’s this?” you asked, looking at the planet.

“That…” Jim trailed off. “That’s the planet you visited. You were sent on an away team to explore the surface, and you were attacked. You were the only survivor.”

You glared at the planet.

“How many people died?”

“Four.”

“And why the hell was I spared?”

“We… we don’t know,” Jim admitted. “But we were glad that we got any of you back alive. Scotty was… if I’m not overstepping, Scotty was beside himself when he heard that you made it back.”

“I can only imagine how he felt when he realized,” you murmured.

“He tried to stay optimistic,” Jim said, coming to stand next to you in front of the screen, watching the planet turn minutely on the screen. “He tried to focus on you being alive. When you woke up and it became apparent that you didn’t remember anything, anyone… it was harder, then, but he held out hope, and I’m sure he still does, that something will come back sooner or later. Most cases of amnesia are -”

“Entirely curable barring physical damage to the brain, yes, thank you, McCoy’s told me more than once,” you grimaced, cupping the back of your neck. “But there’s no physical damage and I still don’t remember shit. So what good’re theories?”

“Y/N…” Jim sighed. “Here.”

He ushered you to one of the control modules.

“Just, have at it. See if anything comes to you.”

You looked sideways at the captain and pursed your lips.

“I’m not going to break anything?”

“It’s basically a really big camera. All the hard work happens in your head,” Jim said. “Just give it a try. I’ll give you your code so you can come in here whenever you want and experiment with it. Maybe meet your team. Perhaps being back in your element might jog something.”

You tapped a random control and the screen’s curve intensified, the planet becoming a 3D projection in the concavity.

You raised your eyebrows and tapped the module again, pulling the view back from the planet where your memories lay discarded like so much waste.


	4. I Trust You

“You be careful with him, y’hear?” McCoy warned as you approached the door of his office to leave.

“Who?” You half turned back, preparing a snippy response if he meant Jim.

“Scotty,” McCoy stood from the desk and folded his arms over his chest. “I know the two of you haven’t really talked yet, but he’s a good friend of mine. He’s pretty easy-going, but when it comes to you… that man’s in a bad way.”

“So I see,” you mumbled, looking at the floor and sucking your teeth. “I’ll be careful with him.”

“You better,” McCoy warned. “I’ve never seen him like this and frankly, I’m just as worried about him as I am about you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. See you tomorrow?”

“No, take tomorrow. We’re not getting anywhere and I think a break’ll do us both some good.”

“If you say so, Doc,” you raised a hand and stepped into the medbay.

Chapel wandered past and gave you a wide-eyed look, but didn’t stop to talk. You found out her reason when you exited sickbay into the hall.

Scotty paced with his hands balled in his pockets.

“Why aren’t you at work?” you asked.

Scotty wheeled around and smoothed his shirt down.

“Y/N, I didnae see… um, I was wee bit distracted, so…”

“Took the day?”

“Aye,” he folded his hands at his waist, rubbing his thumb in tight circles on the opposite palm.

“Wanna talk now, or wait?” you offered, jerking your thumb back toward the turbolift.

“Now, please,” his voice was tight and desperate.

“I…” you started as he fell into step next to you. “I don’t know if this is overstepping, but how are you holding up?”

“No’ well,” he admitted, looking sideways at you. “And you? How was your appointment?”

“I’m just frustrated,” you began, wondering how much detail was safe to share. “I think he is, too, truth be told. We’re not really getting anywhere.”

“I’m sorry,” Scotty murmured as you boarded the turbolift, he after you, turning to face the door as it closed behind you and the vehicle jolted downward. “I cannae…” he bit the inside of his cheek.

“What?” you urged gently.

“I cannae imagine how lonely it mus’ be.”

You looked up at him as the turbolift doors opened.

“Please,” he ushered you out, holding his arm in the door to prevent it from closing.

Dipping your head, you stepped out from the lift and started down the hallway. Scotty lead you after a moment so he could reach the pad by his door, keying in his code. He let you enter first, allowing you to get nearly to the kitchenette before following.

You turned to look at the painting above the bed. A warmth passed through you at the familiarity. Being able to recognize something was a greater blessing than you’d imagined it would be.

“D’ya wan’ anythin’?” Scotty asked. “Tea?”

“Please,” you said, turning to him. He approached the kitchenette and keyed in an order on the replicator. Two mugs of steaming tea appeared and Scotty handed you one. Glancing down into the vessel, you quirked an eyebrow. It was exactly the right colour.

“D’ya wanna sit?” he asked, nodding at the couch.

“I think we should,” you agreed, stepping away from him and seating yourself on the far end of the sofa, crossing your legs at the ankles and looking out the broad window into the empty space outside. Scotty sat at the far end of the couch and sipped his tea, watching the stars go by outside.

After several long, heavy moments you spoke.

“How long have we been married?”

Scotty stiffened briefly before his shoulders slumped. He balanced the mug on his thigh between his hands and looked down into the drink.

“Only a year, las’ month.”

You nodded slowly, rolling your lips together between your teeth.

“How long were we together before that? I couldn’t have been very long out of Starfleet.”

“Ya weren’t,” Scotty sighed. “Ya finished at Starfleet in three years; ‘s no’ unheard of these days, and ya had two degrees goin’ into it already, so ye were ahead of the pack. Yer firs’ assignment was to the Washington, but Jim…” he trailed off. You sucked in a breath.

“He and I spoke,” you started. “He made a bad call. He’s sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Ye shouldn’t have ta be,” Scotty said.

“In any case, he told me that he put in a request for me.”

“Aye, he’d heard about ya through a friend of his at the Academy, Lieutenant Commander Webster?” he looked up at you to read your comprehension.

You shrugged.

“Aye,” he bit his cheek again, rubbing his thumbs up and down the porcelain. “Anyway, he heard about ye and decided he needed ya on the crew. Ye were transferred here after two months, and Jim just gave you the astrometrics lab, no questions asked. We, tha’ is, there were five of us, we developed the software for that lab specifically to suit the unique capabilities of this ship, and now we’ve got the best astrometrics department in Starfleet,” Scotty smiled wistfully. “And it’s all thanks to you.”

“Is that how we met?” you prodded.

“Aye,” he glanced up at you, his eyes full of warmth. “Firs’ time… I wen’ in there and you were on the floor all folded up with nigh on ten PADDs around you, tryin’ ta figure out what the construction crew had left you to deal with. Cursin’ up a blue streak, you were,” he laughed once and looked back at his tea. “Asked ya for dinner a few weeks in. The rest was history.”

“And we got married…?”

“Ach, few months later,” Scotty said, one of his eyelids twitching. “No, I suppose it was nearly a year. Not quite a year.”

“That seems fast,” you mused.

“Well and you though’ it was, bu’ I think I put up a good argument,” he grinned briefly before pursing his lips.

“And what kind of argument was that?” you prodded.

“Are ya sure you wan’ ta talk abou’ this?” Scotty looked up.

“I think I need to,” you resettled the mug in one of your hands and laid the other flat on the couch cushion. “McCoy and I aren’t getting anywhere. I need information. I need to know who I am, Scotty.”

The corners of Scotty’s eyes screwed up for a split second before he nodded, taking a long drink of tea.

“I loved you so much,” he said in measured syllables. He sighed.

You pressed your lips together hard and looked down at your splayed fingers, your heart thrumming dangerously fast. Taking a deep breath, you let it out while counting backward from twenty. Plenty of people had told you that in the past. People you believed. People you didn’t. People you barely knew. This was just one more to add to the pile, except that for once you were absolutely sure that you had to believe him, even if you didn’t right away.

“Have ya seen your lab?” Scotty asked.

“Yeah, it’s something else.”

“Have ya had a chance to spend some real time there?”

“Just last night. I think I’ve gotten the hang of how it works, generally,” you clasped both hands around the tea and lifted it to your lips, taking a long, measured sip. It was perfect. Exactly how you take it.

When you lowered the mug, you saw Scotty watching you, waiting.

“It’s perfect,” you said.

He damn near smiled and a shock of happiness tugged at your heart. The way his eyes crinkled with his emotion, the expressiveness of his face sparked a mirrored response in you.

“Have ya talked ta anyone else yet? Lieutenants S’Ong, Achebe, and Chang?”

“No. It’s just been McCoy, Chapel, Jim, Nyota, and you.”

Scotty chewed his lower lip.

“Is it wrong of me to be happy that we’re finally talking?” he whispered after a minute.

“No,” you hesitated. “Look, Scotty…”

He winced again.

“I can’t lie. This is so strange for me.”

“Ya don’ know me from Adam,” Scotty said with a curt nod.

“I don’t,” you admitted, your heart nearly breaking at the pained look in his eyes as he turned away from you to take a breath. “I just… It feels like a dream. Like that dream where you don’t know anyone or anything but you know you have to pretend you do to keep up. I’m trying to make it so I don’t have to pretend, but nothing’s working, and I mean nothing. McCoy’s completely at a loss and he’s talking about… he’s talking about me leaving the ship.”

Scotty’s head snapped up.

“He can’t.”

“He’s my attending, whether I know him or not,” you raised a hand. “I don’t think I’d know anyone any better off this ship so I might as well be somewhere with people who I know are looking out for me. But I can’t flounder here alone.”

“I’m no’ sure wha’ you’re askin’, lass,” Scotty said, scooting a few inches closer.

“I’m… I think I’m trying to say…” you steeled yourself against the fear that came pulsing out in fiery waves. “I need to feel safe. I’m terrified of all of this; it’s like being plunked into someone else’s life and told to just go with it. It’s hard. It’s scary. People are telling me things I can’t even begin to understand or feel comfortable with,” you winced yourself as Scotty realized that what he said must have been one of those things. “But I have to know. I have to get scared, I know it. McCoy’s been… great, but he’s been too gentle. Something’s going to open the floodgate. It’s got to. And I know that you’re the best person to make that happen.”

A small grin tugged at the corner of Scotty’s mouth and he turned away, quickly washing the emotion from his face.

“What?” you asked.

“You’re rambling,” he said, looking up at you from a downturned face with those beautiful eyes. “Ya do tha’ when you’re trying to find reason.”

“It helps me understand.”

“It always has,” Scotty said, reaching the tips of his fingers gently toward you. “I’ve gottae ask ye something.”

You swallowed.

“Yeah?”

“Do you trust me?”

You blinked at him.

“What?”

“You’re never going to believe me if ya don’ trust me,” Scotty said. His voice suddenly had more body to it, like he finally believed himself. “Do you trust me?”

“I don’t have any reason not to -”

“No, tha’s no’ the same,” Scotty shook his head. “You need to feel actual trust. I know you, remember?” He grinned. “Do you trust me?”

You pursed your lips and looked around the room. Your room. You looked at your favourite painting above the bed, that bright yellow moon staring at you from across the expanse of these unfamiliar quarters drawing you into the first familiar feeling you’d had since waking up.

“You made my tea absolutely perfectly,” you reasoned, feeling something wash over you. You stood and padded to the bed, touching your fingertips to the bedside table. “Is this mine?”

“The other one.”

You walked around the bed and pulled out the drawer of the nightstand.

There it sat, like it had for years. Gripping the handle of your mug in one hand, you reached down and ran your fingers over the muslin cover, the roughness of the fabric making you finally feel at home. You lifted the book from the drawer and stuck your thumb against the leaves, pushing the journal open in your palm. Your own handwriting stared back you.

 _Stardate 2261.332_ , the date read.

You pressed your thumb against an earlier section, pushing the pages back.

 _Stardate 2257.159_.

June 8th, the day you got accepted to Starfleet academy. It said so right here.

_I can’t believe this… I got accepted to Starfleet. I’m going to space._

Thumbing back the way you came, the book fell open to another page.

_Stardate 2263.2._

_Three months of being married to this man and I’ve just come home to find the replicator in pieces. Says he’s “upgrading it.” Damn engineers. What have I done?_

You grinned down at your writing, knowing this voice, your voice, all too well, even if the words sounded foreign.

“I trust you,” you said, looking up at the man who silently stepped up next to you, his tea standing forgotten on the arm of the sofa.


	5. It May Be Time

“Captain, I believe it may be time,” Spock stated, hovering over Jim as the blond tried to come to a decision. Two weeks and nothing.

Before the attack, there was massive radioactivity spike. A peculiar frequency, as Mr Chekov had called it, distracted the scanners and the ship’s crew for nearly twenty minutes. Enough time for the entire away team to be either injured or killed.

Of the six that went down, only two came back alive: Lieutenant Scott and Ensign O’Malley. Mr O’Malley died within hours. Ms Scott flatlined once, but she came back, almost. And as meticulously as Bones had conducted O’Malley’s post-mortem, there was no indication of what had killed him or what could have caused Scott to crash.

And the frequency never resurfaced.

“I’m afraid you might be right, Mr Spock,” Jim breathed. “Mr Sulu, take us away.”

“Sir,” Sulu nodded, preparing the ship to jump to warp.

“Spock, walk with me,” Jim said, hoisting himself from his chair and stepping to his ready room just off the bridge. Spock followed, standing with his hands behind his back just inside the doorway as it sealed itself behind him.

“What am I supposed to tell Scotty?” Jim asked, spreading his hands at his sides. “How can we not find anything?”

“Captain, we expended an ample amount of resources on this endeavour,” Spock reasoned. “It is impossible to claim that an effort to find the source of either the radioactive signature or the force behind the attack on the away team was not made.”

“But I promised Scotty I’d find out what happened to Y/N,” Jim turned back to Spock, crossing his arms over his chest. “They’ve been talking.”

“I had heard,” Spock nodded.

“She’s still not making any improvements,” Jim sighed, rubbing his face. “What if we missed something?”

“Although possible, I find it highly unlikely that we stand a better chance of finding the solution without putting another away team at risk,” Spock said. “And I will remind you that -”

“I said no to that, yeah, I remember,” Jim pressed his palms to his face for a moment before letting his hands fall. “We need a break, I think.”

“Captain?” Spock asked, cocking his head to the side.

“We’re not that far from… what was that resort planet called in the Genori system?”

“Agora,” Spock answered.

“How about we take a week?” Jim suggested. “Let’s get the crew together, go to the surface in two waves. Just take some time to pull ourselves back together. We’ve got five crewmen to mourn.”

Spock furrowed his brow in thought.

“Considering recent events, I believe it would have a positive impact on morale,” Spock agreed. “Perhaps the Scotts should be afforded the full week. There is an aspect of mourning in their situation as well.”

Jim smiled.

“I think you’re getting the hang of this compassion thing, Spock,” he said, clapping the Commander on the shoulder. “And anyway, we need to restock some things. We used up a lot of resources trying to find that signature.”

“Agreed,” Spock said with a curt nod. “Will that be all, Captain?”

“Yeah, Spock, thank you. You’re dismissed,” Jim nodded.

As Spock left the ready room, Jim stepped around the board table and stood in front of the window, looking out at the void.

After two weeks of fruitless searching, there were no other avenues they had left besides sending down another away team and Jim was not going to risk more lives. He was lucky to get one crewman back, such as she had returned. He would simply file a report and let Starfleet choose the next course of action. They likely wouldn’t choose to do anything about the planet for the foreseeable future, so Jim could let it go for now.

He sighed. He’d have to prepare the transmissions for the dead crewmen’s families once they got to Agora.

 _Somehow_ , he thought, _the hardest call might be Y/N’s_.

He grimaced as he remembered the dream he had last night. He stood at the door to the engine room, watching Scotty barrel toward him, mouth going a mile a minute as always. He had to get Scotty to shut up before he had to tell him that Y/N was dead. And the look on Scotty’s face, the abject disbelief and despair, nearly killed him.


	6. Been Reading?

_Stardate 2262.255_

_So we hung the painting today, above the bed. It’s huge. I didn’t realize quite how differently shaped the quarters were on this floor. Sure, Monty’s got more room overall, but I think I got the better deal when it came to hanging space._

_Hanging the damn thing nearly killed us. Monty doesn’t like getting told what to do, of course, so he kept leaving me to hold the damn frame while he put the hooks up. It’s up now, though, and that’s what matters. It’s finally starting to look like home in here._

_I think I’m going to be really happy, after all the fight I’ve put up._

_We’ve got a little more than thirty days left until -_

The door slid open behind you and you turned to see Scotty stepping in, a smudge on his forehead. You took your thumbnail out of your mouth and smiled at him.

“Long day?”

He looked at you slack jawed for a moment.

“Aye,” he admitted. “Sorry, I forgot you were in here. Helping yourself, I hope?”

“Within reason,” you nodded.

“Been reading?” he asked, pointing at your journal.

You closed the book on your finger and laid in in your lap.

“It’s making me feel more at ease,” you said, looking up as he rounded the couch and sat next to you.

“You’re not rememberin’ anything though?” he asked, eyeing your arm for a moment before looking you in the eye.

“Not yet,” you sighed. “I’m learning a lot though. It…”

Scotty waited for a moment before urging you on.

“You can tell me,” he murmured. “I was there after all.”

You grinned and let your finger slip from the pages, tucking the book into the side of the couch next to your hip.

“It sounds like we had a good thing going,” you said, looking up at his face. His eyes glittered with hope. “You have a smudge,” you pointed at your own forehead.

Scotty reached up and rubbed at the skin. He pulled his hand back and, seeing it was black, he stood up and wandered to the bathroom.

“Did you hear that we’re going to a planet?” you asked.

“Aye,” came the response resonating from the bathroom. “I wanted to talk to ya abou’ tha’.”

“Have we been there before?” you grit your teeth, waiting for the response.

“No’ together, anyway,” Scotty responded, coming to sit back with you. He’d removed his red shirt and his boots, leaving him in his black thermal and his pants. “No’ sure abou’ you, but I’ve never been.”

“First time, then,” you nodded, letting your eyes graze quickly over the contour of his body. The thermal shirts showed off a lot more than the coloured over-shirts. Although Scotty didn’t have the cut figure that Jim clearly boasted, he still had a flat stomach and strong, lean arms. You looked away quickly and saw Scotty watching you.

“Yer allowed ta look, if ya wan’,” he murmured, letting his hand slide along his leg toward you, although he didn’t reach for you.

“So about this planet,” you sucked in a breath and changed the subject.

“Well, shore leave, generally firs’ night the bridge crew and a few of us hangers-on go out for a bi’ of a night,” Scotty said, retracting his hand.

“‘Us hangers-on,’ like you and me?” you asked, straightening your back.

“McCoy and Chapel come, Rand joins us every now and again, though she’s got some friends in securi’y she likes to spend time with as well. In any case, I doubt we’re breakin’ with tradition this time, so you’re welcome to come along.”

You considered the offer. The concept of going to a strange planet with only a handful of people you sort of knew raised a few red flags.

“How do these nights usually go?”

“Uh,” Scotty started, looking out the window at a nebula in the distance. “A lo’ of us are sort of with one another these days - being ou’ in space this long has tha’ effect - so we spend a good part o’ the evenin’ in a group before we sor’ o’ splinter off. Spock doesn’ li’ the noise much, so he and Uhura turn in early, usually…”

“What about us?” you asked quietly, your heart doing a flop at the thought.

“Um, well, usually depends wha’s happenin’ to be honest,” Scotty turned back to you. “I don’ know if you’ve had the desire to, lately, but you’re a really good drinker. One of us usually gets into it with a few o’ the pilots and the other tends to carry the drunk one home.”

You smirked. Good to see you hadn’t lost your talent.

“You don’ have to come if you’re not ready,” Scotty reinforced, tilting toward you for emphasis.

“I’d like to, I think,” you looked back at him. “We land in two days, right?”

“Aye.”

“I think it’ll be good for me,” you nodded. “Even if I don’t remember anyone, it’ll be a nice way to re-break the ice. I think I can remember how to have a good time if nothing else,” you added with a grin.

“Aye, then,” Scotty said, his hand flinching on his leg.

“Thank you, by the way,” you said, nodding at his hand. “I know it’s got to be difficult for you.”

“You’ve no idea,” Scotty said with a sad laugh, lifting his hand to his face and rubbing until his cheeks burned red. “Doesn’ really matter, I s’ppose. ‘S long as you’re happy,” he turned and smiled at you, sparking that mirrored feeling of… was it affection? in your chest.

“Anyway,” he continued after a minute. “I’ve got a bunch o’ reports to look through, and I’m sure you’ve more to read there,” Scotty pointed at your book as he stood, rubbing his hands on his legs.

“Yeah,” you mused, lifting your journal from the couch. “I think I’m getting to the good part,” you looked up and watched his mouth twitch.

“I hope…” he started, licking his lips and chewing on his cheek for a moment. “Just… I know you’re good with words. But… I don’t think there are words that could’ve done that day justice.”

You felt your face get hot as you looked down at the book.

“I”ll let you know how it turns out,” you promised, looking back up at him.

He flashed you a nervous smile before disappearing around the back of the couch.


	7. May We Always Have a Reason to Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cyrillic Key: Выпьем за то, чтобы у нас всегда был повод для праздника! - May we always have a reason to party!

Huffing out a nervous breath, you inspected yourself one last time in the mirror in Scotty’s quarters. All of your clothes were still in his closet, so instead of opting to take them all back to your temporary quarters, you chose instead to bring a few garments in at a time and try them on.

Your taste changed drastically since before you joined Starfleet, apparently. Before you tended for clothes that disguised more of your bodily flaws, but the new you, the hypothetical you, liked to flaunt what she had.

Turning around, you cocked your head to the side and tried to decide if the back view of this dress was what you were going for or not.

The dress was the swingiest that you could find; in fact, it was the only one without a tapered skirt. It flowed around your knees enough that you felt that your hips were somewhat camouflaged, but it had no arms and you couldn’t find any camisoles or the like in your collection, so you opted to just rough it. It was either this or that skin-tight number that had full sleeves and much shorter skirt.

Stepping out of the bathroom, you carefully tucked your folded clothes away where you found them, acutely aware of Scotty standing in front of the window looking out over the planet with a tumbler of Scotch in his hand.

“How do I look?” you ventured, carefully stepping forward. You winced, afraid of the answer.

Scotty turned slightly and his eyes softened around the edges.

“I always loved that one,” he said quietly. “You look great.”

You twitched a smile and wound around the couch to stand next to him. Scotty wore one of his insanely patterned shirts, one with multi-coloured, miniscule florets all over it. He looked relaxed and you weren’t sure if it was the lack of uniform or the alcohol.

“Wanna drink?” Scotty offered, taking a sip of his.

“I’ll wait until we’re planetside,” you decided, looking down at the beautiful globe below. The sun was setting on the area you were headed for and the sea on the edge of the continent glowed vermillion in the star’s wake. “Is it alright if I’m nervous?”

“Ye can stay behind,” Scotty offered, looking down at you. “Ya don’ need to come if ya don’ want to.”

“I don’t want to get left behind either,” you admitted, grinding your lips together.

“Hey,” Scotty murmured, touching the back of his hand to your forearm. After the week you’d spent together just talking, your heart finally stayed its course at the touch. “No’ li’ tha’.”

“No, no, I know,” you waved your other hand. “It’s just… I don’t want to isolate myself. But I also don’t want to be around people I don’t know who are drunk, you know?”

“Aye,” Scotty said. He moved his arm back and forth, trying to figure out what he could do.

You sidled in next to him, and he put his arm around your back, cupping the round of your shoulder in his palm. The pair of you stood like this in silence for a moment.

“Not a soul down there wants to hurt you in any way, I promise you tha’,” Scotty said, knocking the rest of his drink back. “And, if you’ll let me, I promise I’ll keep an eye out for you. Keep you safe.”

You nodded but didn’t say anything, slipping from his arm and stepping to the door. Scotty followed a few paces back, straightening his collar.

–

“Hey, Y/N,” a tall, slim, dashing Asian man hurried up next to you as you walked down the sidewalk toward the bar from the hotel. The bridge crew checked in for the night before making their way together, complete with hangers-on, to the bar.

“Um, hi?” You didn’t mean it to sound like a question.

“We haven’t talked yet,” he said with a friendly smile, offering you his hand. “Hikaru Sulu. Helmsman.”

“Hi,” you returned his smile, shaking his hand.

“How are you settling in?” He put his hands in his pockets as he walked along with you, keeping an easy pace.

“Pretty well,” you nodded.

“Y/N!”

You turned to your other side and a bouncy young man in a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up careened in next to you. He went to hug you but thought better of it and instead offered you his hand. You turned back to Hikaru momentarily just as he was looking away.

“Hi,” you shook the bouncy young man’s hand.

“Pavel Chekov,” he said in a thick Russian accent.

“Are you my drinking partner?” you blurted.

“Yes! How did you know?” Pavel looked over the moon at your statement.

“Scotty said I liked getting drunk with helmsmen,” you said, eying the two men in turn. They each quirked the corners of their mouths.

“Zis is completely true,” Pavel slung an arm over your shoulders. Your heart clenched for a moment, but it was an easy, friendly touch, and you found yourself easing into it quickly the more the kid spoke. “Listen, ve hawe a tradition, ze sree of us, and I vant you to know zat you are in complete control tonight,” he made a horizontal chopping motion to signify finality. “Ve drink vat you drink and ve stop ven you say.”

“Unless you get re-initiated into the club,” Sulu added with a sly grin. “We can do that too.”

“Only if you vant,” Pavel reinforced.

“Uh…” you floundered for words. These two were a handful, but their friendship felt easy. No strings attached. Just a lot of drinks. “Let’s see where the night takes us, shall we?”

“Absolutely!” Pavel exclaimed.

The bar loomed ahead of you. Jim got to the door first, and held it open for the entire bridge crew.

You felt another hand on your shoulder and you looked around to see Nyota standing behind you.

“Pace yourself, alright?” she said, leaning in so you could hear her over the thumping music. “No pressure tonight, just have a good time.”

“Have my first drink with me?” you shouted back as you stepped into the bar proper where the music blared all around you.

She smiled and snaked an arm through yours, steering you to the bar.

You sniffed a breath. Drinking was always something you were good at; it was a valuable skill back home what with all the different kinds of people you hung out with, and from the pre-Starfleet parties you went to after getting accepted, you knew you would have gotten to practice even more during your time there.

Nyota was already shouting an order to the bartender.

“Now, down to business,” Pavel said really close to your ear. Hikaru leaned in as well. “Zis planet has a wery specific shot zat ve need to do tonight.”

You nodded and exchanged a look with the helmsman who flashed you a manic grin.

“What are you doing?” Nyota asked.

Pavel waved her off.

“Zis shot is supposedly on fire,” he continued. “Wery high alcohol content; ve may vant to do it before ve do much else just in case.”

“Look at you being all responsible,” Hikaru clapped the Russian on the shoulder and backed up as Nyota squeezed in with a shot. A wedge of some purple citrus-looking fruit sat on top.

“You’ve had tequila, right?” she shouted.

“Yeah!”

“Same concept, but no salt. On three?”

“Nah,” you held out your shot, taking the fruit from the top, and Nyota clinked her glass against yours. You both threw the shots back and bit into the fruit. A sour, milky flavour flooded your mouth. You widened your eyes in surprise before contorting your face at the overwhelmingly tart finish.

“Y’alright?” Nyota asked with a big, beautiful smile on her face.

“Yeah!” You croaked through the tang.

“I’m gonna be over there with Spock, alright?” Nyota pointed. “Wave if you need me.”

“Thanks,” you touched her arm before she wound around you and made for the far end of the room.

“Y/N!” Pavel waved you over to the bar.

Hikaru reached out and took your hand as a small crush of non-Starfleet patrons pressed in from the left. You let him pull you between them and Pavel pointed up at an elaborate teal bottle behind the bar.

“Zat is ze main part of ze drink,” Pavel explained. “It is nearly ninety percent alcohol.”

“Like Everclear,” you said.

“Aye,” he exclaimed, clapping you on the back. “Shall ve?”

“Sure, why not?” You said as the buzz from Nyota’s drink finally settled in your outermost extremities.

“Excellent!” Pavel shouted, turning away from you and flagging down the bartender.

“You don’t have to do too much,” Hikaru reinforced.

“Or I could get re-initiated,” you flashed him a grin. “We’ll see where the night gets us. Hell if this thing puts me under the table, that’ll be that.”

“Where’s Scotty?” Hikaru asked, craning his neck.

You turned to look for the Scot as well, peering between the bodies around you.

“There,” you pointed. “By McCoy.”

Hikaru pushed himself up on his toes.

“You never fail to find him in a crowd,” Hikaru said before his eyes got wide as he settled back on the ground. “Sorry…”

“Don’t worry about it,” you waved him off. “He said he’d be keeping an eye out for me tonight, I knew he wouldn’t be far.”

“How are you two doing, if you don’t mind my asking?” Hikaru queried, leaning in to listen.

“We’re doing fine, I suppose,” you shrugged. “I mean, I still don’t remember him, but we’ve been talking a lot for last few days, so I mean, we’re becoming good enough friends. I trust him.”

“I’m really glad to hear that,” Hikaru said. “I mean, not that my opinion means much -”

“Here ve go!”

You turned back to Pavel and felt your eyes go dry as you stared at this shot. It stood three times as tall as a normal shot and, true to Pavel’s promise, it was on fire.

“Ze fire burns cold! Feel it!” Pavel urged, pawing at your hand.

You lifted your fingers to the orange and purple flame dancing above the head of the shot. You passed through the flames with only a vague tingling sensation.

“Cool,” you pronounced, resting your fingers around the glass.

Pavel lifted his own shot and put a hand over his heart.

“Выпьем за то, чтобы у нас всегда был повод для праздника!”

“What?”

“Just drink, just drink,” Hikaru urged before downing his own shot.

You up ended the glass, drinking it fire-first, much to your common sense’s displeasure. It felt like honey going down, it was so thick, but it didn’t stick, which you were glad for because you didn’t take a deep enough breath before overturning the glass.

Slamming the glass on the table, your vision went white for a moment. You made a noise but then the image of Pavel grinning like a madman before you came into focus.

“Jesus,” you swore, laying a hand on your head. “That was awesome!”

“Ve should let zat settle,” Pavel decided sagely. “I’m buying a round of beers for zose guys,” he gestured at the table where McCoy, Scotty, Kirk, Spock, and Uhura sat, all sipping on other drinks. “Go, I’ll catch up.”

You tried to take a step and stumbled, suddenly aware that you couldn’t feel your feet.

“I gotcha,” Hikaru placed a careful hand on your waist and took your hand with his other. You looked down and saw a wedding band.

“Where’s your partner? Are they on the ship, too?” you shouted.

“No, Ben’s back home with our daughter,” Hikaru said, the corner of his mouth turning up. “He’s not really a Starfleet guy.”

“He’s a lucky man,” you said.

Hikaru suddenly beamed as he steered you through the crowd.

“Gents! Uhura,” he exclaimed as you arrived at the table.

There were no chairs in this entire establishment, you realized. You settled in between Hikaru and Nyota, letting the light feeling from the shot take you higher and higher.


	8. I Need You

Pavel arriving with the drinks snapped you from your alcohol-induced space out.

“Good job, Pav,” Jim congratulated him. “You didn’t drop any this time!”

“Practice makes perfect!” the young man exclaimed, placing the tray in the middle of the table.

You didn’t grab for one of the beers quite yet, still feeling pleasantly numb.

“What the hell was that thing?” Nyota asked. “That shot?”

“I don’t know,” you said, pacing your words so they came out in the right order. “Pavel ordered it. Apparently it was like, ninety percent? Looked like a damn triple.”

“You idiots are gonna go blind,” McCoy growled from across the table. “And you need to be more careful,” he pointed at you. “You’re still undergoing treatment.”

“Y’ said I’d be fine,” you waved the doctor off. “Have a beer, enjoy yourself, Doc.”

Jim snorted and elbowed Scotty.

“Bottoms up,” the captain said, waiting for Scotty to grab a glass.

“I don’ know if-”

“Shut up and drink, Scotty, that’s an order.”

“Ach, fine,” he grabbed a glass and shot you a look before simultaneously chugging the drink with Kirk.

You watched the two men race to finish. Jim won. Scotty dropped his glass back to the table only seconds later.

“Alcohol is meant ta be enjoyed, Jim,” Scotty grumbled.

“Look me in the eye and tell me that wasn’t fun!” Jim said with a watery look in his eye. He wrapped an arm around Scotty and shook the man before taking a look around the bar.

“Jim,” McCoy started.

“Oh leave it,” Jim shook him off.

“You made me promise to-”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m just looking…”

You let the conversation fade into the background as you felt a hand on your shoulder. Turning, you saw Pavel looking at you with a full beer in his hand.

“More?” He asked.

“Nah, I’m good for now,” you shook your head.

Pavel flashed a genuinely happy grin and started to drink.

“Wanna dance?” Nyota asked.

You turned back to her.

“Maybe a little later, I want to make sure I can stand up first.”

Nyota laughed and patted you on the shoulder as she sidled past you and wandered to the floor where Chapel was already dancing with a handful of other women.

Spock began a conversation with the doctor and Hikaru and Pavel started to discuss the next round of drinks. Jim abruptly rounded the table. He clapped you on the shoulder as he passed by.

“Don’t let the evening run away on you,” he instructed. “Have fun. Meet people.”

“Aye, Sir,” you said, sketching a poor excuse for a salute.

“Excellent,” Jim patted your shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.

You looked across the table at Scotty who was turning the empty beer glass around his hands.

Pressing your lips together you looked back at Nyota and the other women from the ship. With their civilian clothes on, you wouldn’t even know they were from the crew if Chapel and Nyota weren’t being so friendly.

Another hand appeared on your shoulder. You looked up to see Scotty.

“Dance with me?” he asked, extending a hand.

You stared down at it, heart suddenly pounding like it did when you were thirteen. You looked back up at Scotty and got lost in the depth of his eyes, so sincere and blue.

Taking his hand, you let him ease you away from the table before pulling you back onto the dance floor. He pulled you up close to him, leaving a minute gap between your bodies, and placing his other hand on your mid-back.

“I don’t know if this is the right kind of song for this,” you protested, feeling like something faster might work for this heavy beat.

“Aye,” Scotty said, looking down at you, eyes swimming with the hasty beer.

He took his hand from your back and swung you out before reeling you back in, replacing his hand and whirling you around.

“Ah!” you exclaimed, feeling a real smile burst forth on your face with surprise.

Scotty smiled back in earnest, his eyes crinkling completely and his teeth gleaming in the low light.

You laughed at the sight. It was wonderful to see him lit up like this, finally looking happy for the first time since you met.

He swung you around a few more times before tucking you up closer to him, chests flush.

You gulped but you couldn’t stop smiling. That shot was still tingling in your limbs and the edges of the room bobbed steadily up and down with your movements, and everything just felt good. For a moment, right now, you could just focus on enjoying yourself like you used to. It didn’t matter if you didn’t know anyone here. You were all having fun. You were having fun.

And Scotty, damn if you didn’t see it before, was a handsome guy, particularly from where you stood looking up at him. That sharp chin, the easy eyes, the way he styled his hair with that great little flip -

“What?” He tucked you in closer and spoke right in your ear. “Yer starin’.”

“You’re…” you started.

“I’m wha’? Eh?” he prodded, whirling you around again, tipping his nose into the side of your head.

“You’re just… really… good looking, alright?” you admitted, feeling your face grow hot.

Scotty laughed and pressed his nose into your hair for a split second before pausing in his movements.

The tempo of the music changed to something treble heavy; it flowed like water with almost no beat.

Scotty replaced his hand firmly on your back and took your hand, pressing it to his chest.

“Are you doin’ a’righ’?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you breathed, laying your forehead on his collarbone. Your heart pounded in your chest, waiting for something to feel wrong, but it didn’t.

You felt Scotty’s nose against your head again and his chest puffed up under you as he inhaled. He whined quietly on the exhale.

“What’s up?” you asked, already sort of knowing.

“I don’ wan’ tae trouble ya with it,” he said, swaying you back and forth.

“Trouble me with it,” you urged, pressing your hand to his chest. “I’m not the only one hurting, here.”

Scotty pulled back and looked down at you. You watched his eyes graze over your face and your shoulders before landing and staying on your eyes.

“You look so beautiful,” he said carefully. “I…”

“What?” you asked after he was silent for a minute.

“There aren’t words for wha’ I wanna say,” he admitted, leaning forward slowly so you had a chance to pull away. He rested his forehead on yours. “Is this a’righ’?”

“Yeah,” you said, a sudden pang prodding at your chest.

Scotty turned you around in a half-circle, offsetting your heads just enough that you went for it, logic be damned. You tipped your head up in the newly afforded space and kissed him.

Scotty stopped moving altogether and let the kiss go on for a split second more before pulling back, standing at full height and grabbing your arms just below the shoulder.

“I’m sorry -” you started, suddenly flooding with panic.

“No, please, please don’ be -”

“I’m sorry,” you said again, pulling away from him and darting through the crowd, making for the door.

You burst outside, your body shocking at the decline in temperature and sound.

“Y/N!”

You turned to see Scotty pushing his way through the door, reaching out for you.

“I’m sorry -” you repeated, trying to continue to explain.

“Please, please, please,” he urged, pulling you in for a tight hug, tucking your head into the crook of his neck. “Please don’ be. Please don’ be.”

“I don’t know why I did that,” you started to shake.

“Do you wan’ me to take you back?” he offered, pulling back, ceasing to touch you completely. You found your body screaming to be touched instead of being left to stand here in the open air alone. You bit your lip hard so you had something to focus on.

“No.”

“Do you wan’ me to get Uhura? She said she’d be happy to -”

“No.”

“Christ,” Scotty ran a hand through his hair. “Please, what do you need? I wan’ tae help.”

“I… I need…” you held out your hands, watching them tremble and wondering if it was the shock, the drink, or the cold making them do that.

Scotty reached out and took your hands without a second thought.

You pulled him in so his face was above yours. His face was on the verge of crumpling again, you could see it.

“Do ya,” he asked tentatively, swallowing hard, “do ya wan’ ta do tha’ again?”

“Please,” you whined, pressing up on your toes to reach him better.

Scotty placed both his arms around you and laid his lips on yours so gently. He pulled back after a heart-pounding moment.

“You won’t break me,” you whispered, snaking one hand up his chest and draping your arm over his shoulder, crooking your elbow to bring him back down to you.

Scotty came back hungrily, peppering your lips with lighter kisses before pressing his lips to yours hard.

Your body burned under his touch. You arched your back to press yourself fully to him, letting your tongue split your lips and press against his.

He let you in, gingerly running his own tongue along yours before abruptly pulling back.

You looked up at him, mind racing but not a single thought sticking.

“No’ here, we’re righ’ at the door,” he murmured, pulling you along the path back toward the hotel.

“Will they notice we’ve gone?” you asked.

“Probably, but they’ll notice we’re both gone; it’ll be fine,” he reassured you.

The sun set a long time ago, leaving only an intermittent path of street lamps illuminating the walk back to the hotel. The surf crashed on the shore a hundred meters away, eventually the only sound you could hear barring the pounding of your heart in your ears.

Halfway down the sidewalk, you tugged on Scotty’s hand and he stopped, stepping back to you like he was afraid you’d run.

“Is this alright?” you repeated his own question back to him, terrified that he’d say it wasn’t. Three weeks of loneliness and confusion, it was like magic to be touched. Held.

“Only if you really wan’ it, Y/N, please. I need to know why you’re doin’ this now,” Scotty cupped your cheek in one hand and held onto yours with his other for dear life.

“I don’t know why now, but it… I think I need it. I need to feel normal again,” you said, aware that your rationalization ability plummeted with each passing moment.

“I’s no’ because o’ tha’ drink?” Scotty whispered it like a prayer.

“I don’t… I don’t think so…” you said.

“Please, Y/N,” he pressed his forehead to yours hard. “Please.”

You held your breath and let the world fade out. Scanning your whole body from head to toe, you considered your state. Your hands and feet were still fuzzy, but the panic from the last few minutes brought surprising clarity to both your joints and your mind.

And you wanted Scotty. Right then and there, you wanted him. He was so kind and gentle and genuine and caring and goddamn, if he wasn’t a beautiful man to boot. Compounded on top of that the need you had to be touched, held, made to feel like a real, corporeal being again simmered deep in your belly, and that feeling, although never as strong as it was in this moment, had been there for days.

You tipped your chin forward and let your lips land on his. The two of you stood there breathing together for a long minute, lips shaking against each other until you finally pulled back simultaneously, reading each other’s hesitation and desire in the air between you.

“Please,” you whispered. “I need you.”

“Are ye certain?” he whispered. You could hear those same tears from the first day you met on his breath.

“Yes,” you breathed, pulling his hand up and laying it flush against the smallest part of your waist.

“Jesus,” he choked on the word, ceasing to breathe for a moment.

“Let’s go back,” you said. “My room?”

“Whichever’s closer,” he said, pulling back and looking down at you with a feral, desperate look in his eye before turning and pulling you down the sidewalk.


	9. If You Knew What I Knew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter for which this fic is rated. There's smut here, and lots of it.

Scotty whirled you around when you got to the door of the hotel room, pressing you up against the wood and leaning down to press his forehead to yours again. You closed your eyes, feeling his breath cascade over his face as you fumbled in your pocket for the key.

“I’ve go’ mine, let’s go,” Scotty said, grabbing your hand and pulling you along the hallway.

Scotty’s room was around the corner at the far end. It felt like a mile away when all you wanted to do was sling your arms around his neck.

He flashed the keycard in front of the pad by the door and pushed it open when the deadbolt slid back.

The moment the door shut, he turned around and picked you up clean off the floor, his hands gripping hard where your thighs met your buttocks. He rested his chin on your sternum, looking up at you.

You felt your jaw hanging in amazement and a modicum of fear at not being able to touch the floor but you lifted your hands to his face and cupped it, stroking your thumbs over the weathered skin of his cheeks.

“Are ya really, really sure?” Scotty asked, starting to walk you across the room.

“How many times are you going to ask me that?” You grinned and dipped your head to kiss him again, pulling back when you felt the words bubbling on his tongue.

“I’m no’ gonna lie to ya,” he admitted, licking his lips. He stopped moving. The bed was behind you. “I’m gonna ask you again and again and again because I wantae ma’ damn certain tha’ this is exactly wha’ ya wan’.”

You cried out as he dropped you on the bed. You landed with a bounce and barely had time to recover your senses before he was kneeling over top of you, pressing your head back into the mattress with a strong kiss.

When he pulled back, you took your chance to ask.

“Is this what you want?”

He pulled his head back a little more.

“Y/N,” he reached up and smoothed his hair back. “If you knew what I knew…”

“What?” you said in an almost teasing tone. On a guiltier level, it made you almost giddy to have someone act so flustered and full of desire in regards to you.

“It’s… I… Christ, I want you so badly,” he said in a rush before leaning down to kiss you again.

You gasped in surprise as his hand wrapped around your hip tightly. He pulled back to watch your face.

“Please,” you begged, lifting your head to follow him up.

He sat back on his haunches for a moment, the heat of his legs and crotch bleeding through your dress into your thighs.

You sat up and reached for the buttons on his shirt. You only got the first three undone before he reached back and grabbed the collar, pulling it over his head, balling it up, and tossing it over the edge of the bed. You stared at his body, taking stock. His collarbones protruded artfully over his softly protruding chest, the slope of his stomach folded over itself just slightly in the middle before he raised himself up on his knees.

“Talk to me,” he said.

“Just…” your mind was utterly blank. His pants were very clearly too tight for this situation. “Just enjoying the view?”

He snorted and lowered his hands on either side of your head, kissing you again, letting the lengths of your noses line up and brush together as he moved.

You ghosted your hands up and let your palms smooth over the velvety contours of his sides before skimming up and over his chest. You let the pads of your thumbs graze his nipples, earning you a moan.

He pulled back again, watching you.

You opened your mouth to say something but nothing came to mind. Scotty lifted a hand to your face.

“We can stop.”

“No, please,” you said in a voice that verged on a whine, letting your hands trail down to the buckle on his belt.

He pushed himself back up on his knees and helped you undo the belt before you popped the button on his pants and pulled the zipper down. He pushed himself off the bed and removed his pants, shoes, and socks all at once.

As he came forward to settle over you again, he pushed your dress up, keeping far enough back that you could sit up to get the garment over your head.

The moment the dress was on the floor you felt your face warm.

Scotty kneeled over you, taking in the sight of you laid out before him. You breathed heavily, waiting.

“Say what you’re thinking,” you urged.

“I ne’er though’ I’d get ta see ye li’ this again,” he came back down and pressed his hands into the mattress above your shoulders. “I though’…”

You ran your hands up his body again, letting your palms settle on his face. You lifted your head and pecked his lips.

“You need this just as much,” you whispered.

“Aye, for a different reason,” he breathed, touching the tips of your noses together.

“You can say it,” you said. “Honestly. I don’t mind.”

Scotty took a few breaths before mouthing, “I thought you were dead.”

You reached your arms around his neck and tried to pull him in, but he was faster. He rolled the two of you over so that you hovered above him.

“I want you in control,” he said. “You can set the pace. You decide when and where we stop.”

“I don’t want to stop,” you said, quirking an eyebrow.

Scotty bit his lip as you sank down over him, pressing yourself to his hardness. You sighed at the touch, the beautiful, promising pressure.

Scotty’s hands moved to your hips, pulling you down as he pressed up.

Reaching your own arm behind you, you popped the closure on your bra and let it fall off, tossing it to the side before you felt a fresh wave of nervousness hit you.

Scotty noticed and eased his pressure with his hands on your hips, but his eyes also lowered to your chest. He sat up so that you straddled his lap while he gingerly placed one of his palms on your breast, looking back up at you. You sighed, your stomach tightening with the feeling. Biting your lip, you watched as Scotty took your other nipple in his mouth, gently sucking while he watched for your approval. When you moaned he let his eyes slip shut and he started to work his tongue more concertedly on your flesh.

It shocked you when he switched, letting your nipple fall into the cold air for a brief moment before covering it with his palm, engulfing your other nipple with his tongue, sucking just hard enough to make you cry out.

The moment your abs started to shake, he let you go completely and he lay back on the mattress, the tips of one of his fingers trailing up your thigh.

“Y/N,” he murmured, a smile playing on his lips.

You reached down and hooked your thumbs around the waist of his boxers. Another wave of nerves hit you. For everything he knew about you and your body and what you wanted… you’d never even seen him before.

“Y/N?” he repeated, reaching up and grabbing your arm just below the elbow, propping himself up to see you better.

“I just don’t want to do anything wrong,” you mumbled.

“My darlin’, there’s nothin’ ye could do wrong,” he assured you, pulling himself up to kiss you again.

You smiled against his lips, starting to pull his boxers down. Instead of worrying about what was happening, you watched his face. The set of his eyes wasn’t quite as soft as it had been. He was waiting for you to ask to stop. Pushing yourself up, you pushed his boxers underneath your body before leaning back and pulling them down his legs. He lifted his knees, pushing you up onto yours, and he kicked the garment off.

Taking a deep breath, you looked down at him. His unintimidating length curved just slightly to the side, twitching up eagerly. You let out your breath and looked back at him. His cheeks burned red.

“What?” you asked.

“I never really asked before…” he started, biting the inside of his cheek.

You smiled and leaned forward, kissing him while you reached down and took him in your hand, gently pumping him a few times in your fist, earning you a strong twitch in return.

Scotty reached down and pulled your own underwear off your hips. You lifted yourself and pulled your legs out, hearing the soft flop of the briefs on the floor.

As you lined him up with your entrance your blood suddenly ran cold.

“Wha’s wrong?” Scotty asked, lifting himself again, propping himself up on his elbows.

“I don’t know if I have…” you stuttered.

“Ye go’ an implant,” he reached up and stroked your arm soothingly. “Eighteen months ago.”

“Oh,” you shook your head. “I didn’t even think…”

“It’s okay,” he lifted more to press his forehead to yours. “We can still stop.”

“I don’t want to,” you said honestly. You pressed yourself to him, not quite enough to penetrate, but enough to hold him there while you planted your hands on his soft chest.

“Y/N,” Scotty groaned, letting himself fall back on the bed, his eyes open and watching every move you made.

You bit your lip and pressed down on him. The further in he got the more your moan threatened to spill over.

Scotty’s hands were suddenly on your hips and he pulled you down flush with him, forcing the moan from your throat in a loud, high note.

“Sorry,” he apologized. You felt his legs shaking under you.

“Don’t be,” you assured him, tipping yourself forward to begin a slow pace as you got used to him being inside you.

“Oh my God,” he moaned, pressing his head back into the mattress. “The things I wan’ae do…”

“Try me,” you challenged, the full feeling in you emboldening you as you picked up the pace.

“But I wan’ you ta -”

“Scotty, I think I’m doing just - ah - fine.”

Scotty winced suddenly, his fingers faltering on your hips.

“Are you alright?” you asked, stopping mid-stroke.

“Aye,” Scotty growled suddenly, sitting up and protecting you from falling back in the strong circle of his arms. He hooked one arm under your rib cage and helped you regain your rhythm, the fingers of his other hand digging into your hip every time you came down onto him.

“Christ - ah - shit,” Scotty cursed as he lifted you off of him completely, hoisting you to your knees and pressing his forehead on your stomach.

“What happened?”

“I’m gonna come too fast,” he breathed, panting as he tried to bring himself down. “God, wha’ ya do ta me…”

He laid himself down, leaving you on your knees, and started to slide further down between your legs.

“Can I?” he asked as he threaded his arms through the gap.

You felt your stomach tighten with heat. All you could do was nod.

He settled himself under you and urged you down onto his face. You felt yourself shaking and you were sure he could, too. He rubbed slow circles on your hips where he held them, easing you down until his tongue was on your clit drawing slow circles.

You cried out, reaching down and threading your fingers through his hair. As his tongue moved against you, your mind went blissfully blank, all thought being replaced by a needy electricity, begging for somewhere to go.

One of Scotty’s hands left your hips. You looked down at him and met his eyes, imploring you for permission as his fingers slowly slid into you. Your permission came by virtue of the moan you let out as your walls clenched tight around him, your orgasm starting to loom.

Scotty’s tongue left you and he placed a kiss to your clit, bringing forth a whimper.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured, pumping his fingers in and out of you at a leisurely pace.

You smiled and bit your lip. Scotty huffed a sigh of happiness below you and you looked down again. His eyes shone back.

Then his fingers left you and he slid off the bed.

You began to turn around but Scotty’s hands were already on your hips, easing you down to the bed.

“You’re still okay?” he asked, one of his hands sliding all the way down your leg to the ankle, angling your limb over his hip and he arranged himself above you.

You whimpered back, reaching up and touching whatever parts of him you could reach. He leaned forward enough for you to be able to cup the back of his head as he slid back into you. Beginning a relentless rhythm, he lowered his hand from your leg to your clit, pressing just hard enough for you gain friction without being overwhelmed.

“God you’re good at this,” you huffed, your whining becoming louder with each thrust.

“Practice,” he said simply, leaning down and kissing you hard before pulling back up and planting a hand firmly beside your head, hardening his pace as his own face came undone with desperation.

He twitched his thumb over your clit just once and like that you teetered on the edge. A shaky moan ripped forth and Scotty seemed to know exactly what that meant.

His hand left you and took your hip in a bruising grip as he pressed his body to you, pubic bone grinding against you as he slammed into you once, twice, and a third time before crying out your name as he spilled into you, triggering your own intense orgasm.

“Scotty, Scotty, Scotty,” you whimpered a whispered, pleading litany as you wrapped your legs tight around his hips, pulling him in.

And then his arms were around you and he tipped over, pulling you with him so that you both laid on your sides. One arm curled around your back, his palm pressing between your shoulder blades and the other settled under your head, his fingers carding through your hair as he whispered into your temple, kissing your flesh with each movement of his lips. Your legs fell limp, so he wrapped one of his own around you, tucking your body into him completely.

As you came down from your high, you strained to understand the words he pressed into your skin, but with the breathiness of his whisper and his accent layered together, it was nearly impossible to decipher.

“Scotty?”

His arms tightened around you and he pressed a real kiss to your head before touching his forehead there.

“Aye?” A tear escaped the corner of his eye and slid down the length of his nose, hanging on the tip.

“Are you okay?” you breathed, tipping up and kissing his nose to get rid of the tear.

“Aye,” he promised, stroking his thumb against your head. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” you responded, smiling at him.

He smiled back, the corners of his eyes creasing with happiness as he watched your eyes grow heavy and shut.


	10. I'm Bleeding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: blood, headache, fainting.

Real sunlight streaming through your window woke you the next morning. Inhaling the warm air, you twisted your body from your back to your side to look at the person next to you.

Scotty lay there, his hand on your waist, thumb rubbing lazy designs into your flesh. A slow smile crossed his face as he watched you wake up.

“Morning,” you murmured, mirroring his smile. As the word passed your lips, a bloom of pain sprouted from the base of your skull, its tendrils crawling up and up and up. You must have winced.

“Are y’okay?” Scotty asked, his thumb stilling.

“Yeah, headache,” you muttered, taking a deep breath to take the edge off.

“Hangover?” he asked, lifting his hand to gingerly twine his fingers through your hair.

“Did you see that shot?” You tried to crack a smile. “Probably.”

You raised your hand to Scotty’s face, brushing the disarrayed strands of hair from his forehead and organizing them back into place.

“How are you?” you asked.

“Happy,” he whispered. “And you? Aside from the hangover.”

“I’m feeling good,” you said, resting your fingertips on his cheek.

“You don’…”

“Not at all,” you tried to lean forward to kiss him, but your head throbbed and you squeezed your eyes shut. “Do we have a hypo?”

“O’ course, hang on,” Scotty kissed you and rolled out of bed.

You peeked one eye open as he walked away. You bit your cheek to keep from grinning at the way his hips cocked back and forth with each step.

“How bad’s the pain? One to ten?” he asked, crouching by his bag.

“Five? Six?” As you spoke a fresh vine of pain crawled up the back of your head. “Oh… seven?”

Scotty looked back at you, his brow creasing.

“Should I call McCoy?”

“No, it’ll be fine,” you groaned.

Scotty pursed his lips and dug around in the bag, pulling out a hypo and swinging quickly back to the bed.

“Relax,” he murmured, placing the device against your neck.

A rush of ice burst into your throat and the pain started to subside.

“Better?” Scotty asked, placing the hypo on the nightstand and laying next to you again, absently stroking your arm.

“Yeah,” you breathed, easing your eyes open. “Thanks.”

Scotty licked his lips.

“Y/N… I gotta ask…” his eyes darted between yours. “Did ya remember anythin’?”

A lump blocked your throat.

“Hey,” you settled your hand on his face again, thumb stroking along the edge of his chin. “Just because I didn’t, doesn’t mean that I didn’t have a good time. That I don’t…” You breathed a laugh. “I don’t know about you, but last night was… amazing, and I’d very much like to do that again sometime.”

Scotty smiled with sad eyes.

“I’m starting to wonder if you’re ever going to remember me,” he murmured.

“Well it’s only been three weeks,” you said, letting your hand fall to the mattress. “But I mean… I think we’re making some progress. I trust you and I mean, clearly I have consistent taste, because I’m absolutely attracted to you, I mean…” you gestured to your body, still nude under the sheet.

“I jus’ don’ wan’ ya ta get sent away after all this,” Scotty confided, squeezing your bicep.

“Then we just have to keep pushing,” you said. “Something’ll stick.”

“Wha’ if it doesn’t?” Scotty squeezed your arm again.

“Then I start from scratch, I don’t know,” you tapped your fingertips on the mattress. “I’ve got two degrees that I still remember every waking second of, so if I have to go brush up at Starfleet, it’s not the end of the world. And one way or another, we’re still married, so if I have to go to the academy, they’ll assign me wherever you are when I’m done.”

Scotty blinked at you.

“Does…” he licked his lips, lifting his hand to your face from your arm. The corners of his mouth twitched. “Does that mean you’re… you want to stay married?”

“I do.” You smiled as his face lit up. He beamed, his eyes closing in elation and he tipped his forehead against yours. “For now, anyways; we’ve got to take it one day at a time.”

“O’ course, o’ course,” Scotty said, choking back his emotion. “Hell, tha’s good enough for me.” He kissed you once before pulling back, pressing his lips together. “Are ya hungry?”

“Getting there,” you nodded.

“D’ya wanna go out or stay here?”

“You got a way better room than me,” you mused, looking around the spacious, well-lit room.

“Then le’s enjoy it,” he kissed you again before rolling out of bed and retrieving his trousers from the floor. “They’ve go’ a pool on the roof; we can go up later if ye like.”

“Sure,” you sat up and stretched, letting the sheet fall away. “I’m gonna shower while you’re gone.”

“A’righ’,” Scotty pulled his crumpled shirt over his head and rebuttoned one of the buttons. “Want anything specific?”

“Not really.”

“I know wha’ ya like,” he grinned, kneeling on the bed and kissing you again.

“I believe you,” you giggled as he stood up.

“I won’ be a minute,” he promised, pausing at the door to look at you one last time before leaving.

You sighed a laugh and picked yourself up out of bed.

The damp feeling of the air soaked into your space-dry skin.

Stepping into the bathroom, you turned on the light and looked at yourself in the mirror. Your hair was fluffed from sleep and you had a smattering of faint bruises on your hip where Scotty held you last night. Still feeling the residual slickness between your legs, you covered your face with your palms and let out a small squeal.

The last time you had sex like that was reading week of your second year at university.

Scotty, though. He was so intense and attentive, each of his touches like fire on your flesh. How had you survived two years, presumably, of sex like that?

You sighed loudly, stretching again as you turned to the shower, letting the water run warm before stepping under the spray. Fresh, unreclaimed water smelt different, almost as if it was alive.

You stood there for a long few moments with your eyes shut until a dull throb began at the front of your head. Annoyed that the hypo was wearing off so quickly, you clicked your tongue.

Groaning, you opened your eyes and reaching for the soap. A splash of colour against the white of the shower stall drew your gaze down.

Blood swirled in clouds and streams around your toes, curling to the drain with the water. As you gaped, another two fat drops fell from your face into the mix, bursting on impact.

You lifted a hand to your nose. It came away bright red just as the pain in your head reached an unexpected crescendo.

You cried out, pressing your blood-soaked hand to your hair, the feeling your limbs slowly blotting out.

“Scotty!” you screamed, stumbling from the shower stall. “Scotty!”

You slid into the door frame and clutched at it, your brain burning behind your eyes.

He went to get food. He said he knew what you liked. Blueberry pancakes. That’s code for blueberry pancakes. Monty’s bringing you blueberry pancakes.

“Monty!” you cried, tears streaming from your eyes as you clutched at your head.

You stumbled out into the room, wet feet sticking to the carpet.

The comm terminal was on the wall by the closet. You tapped desperately at the screen, bracing your shoulder on the wall.

“Who do you wish to contact?” the computer’s voice asked calmly.

“McCoy, Leonard McCoy,” you whined, laying a hand over your forehead. Blood dripped from your face onto the tops of your feet, streaking down to soak into the fluffy fibres of the carpet.

“Connecting.”

An eternity passed.

“Scotty, y’alright? You and Y/N left awful quick last night -”

“Len, it’s me, I’m bleeding… my head…” you cried, trying not to hyperventilate.

“Y/N? What happened?”

“Dunno.”

“Where’s Scotty?”

“Food…” you gasped. A low throaty groan brewed in your chest before erupting into a scream.

“I’m coming. Can you open the door for me? Y/N? Y/N!”

You stared up at the ceiling, your own blood flooding down the back of your throat, burbling with each gasping breath.


	11. Don't Leave Me

“How long was she there?” Scotty mumbled through his fingers, watching you inhale shallow breaths as you lay on the biobed in one of the private rooms in sickbay. Your eyes were closed and your hands rested palms-up by your thighs.

“No more than five minutes,” McCoy said. “As soon as she stopped responding I ran. The staff let me in right away.”

“Christ,” Scotty squeezed his eyes shut. “Wha’ happened?”

“I don’t know. When she called me, I asked her and she said she didn’t know either,” McCoy chewed his lip, watching his friend try to keep it together. “Chapel went back and looked around the room. It looked like she was in the shower when it started.

“Scotty,” he continued after a moment. “Did anything out of the ordinary happen this morning?”

“She woke up with a hangover, a headache,” Scotty sniffed and tried to sound confident in his story. “I as’d how bad; she said it was a seven.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” McCoy asked in a routine tone; he didn’t want to sound accusatory.

“I wanted to; she said it was a hangover and she’d be fine. I gave her a hypo and I left no’ long after.”

“How long were you gone?” McCoy asked.

“Maybe ten minutes by the time I go’ back?” Scotty pressed his hands to his face. “I shouldn’ have left.”

“You couldn’t have known this was going to happen,” McCoy clenched and relaxed his fist in front of his mouth for a moment. “Scotty, there’s something else you should know.”

“Wha’?” Scotty asked, looking at McCoy and fearing the worst.

“She called me ‘Len.’ On the comm.”

Scotty stared at McCoy before fisting a hand in his hair.

“Y’mean…?”

“She remembered. She remembered something.”

“Oh my God,” Scotty moaned, turning around and bringing his free hand to his mouth. “Wha’ the hell happened… I left her for minutes… she was fine when I left… she promised me she didn’t remember anything…”

“She might not have,” McCoy said. “Clearly something was about to happen when you spoke with her before this, so it’s entirely possible, probable even, that she didn’t remember then.”

“God, I wish she’d wake up…” Scotty moved back to your side.

“We have to wait,” McCoy said. “She’s stable; we can’t push her to wake up before she’s ready.”

“But she’s going to, right?” Scotty looked at the doctor imploringly. “Please tell me she will.”

“I’m hopeful,” McCoy winced at the pained look Scotty gave him. “I wish I could be more helpful, really, but she’s in control right now.”

“Do you…” Scotty swallowed and reached down to brush his fingertips along the back of your hand. “Do you think she’ll remember when she wakes up?”

“I have no idea,” McCoy said. “It’s possible.”

“Yer jus’ full o’ answers aren’t’cha?” Scotty grumbled. “Sorry, I… sorry.”

“Look, Scotty, I can’t say I understand what you’re feeling right now, but I know you’re frustrated. Just be patient. She’s completely stable right now. That’s better than this morning.”

Scotty nodded, pressing his fingers into his eyes.

“Can you walk me through what happened last night?” McCoy asked. “Something that happened might shed some light on what brought this on.”

“I don’…” Scotty sniffed. “We were a’ the bar, you saw us. She had two drinks that I saw, something with Uhura and that monster with Chekov and Sulu. Um… I asked her to dance, we… we ended up back a’ mine,” Scotty breathed a long sigh. “We had sex. We fell asleep. She woke up with a headache, figured it was a hangover. I gave her the hypo. We talked. I wen’ for breakfast; she said she was gonna have a shower. I came back and found you all crowded around her on the floor.”

“She didn’t… sustain any trauma, did she? Bump her head on anything?”

“No,” Scotty whispered, rubbing his face until his skin turned red. “God, I was so careful…”

“I’m sure you were, Scotty,” McCoy said.

“Actually, I dropped her on… on the bed. Could tha’ve…? It couldn’ have been more than a foot and a half drop, I’m no’ tha’ tall…”

“I doubt it, Scotty, but I’ll keep it in mind as I run my scans. Hey,” McCoy put a hand on Scotty’s shoulder. “There’s nothing you could have done to stop this from happening.”

Scotty shook his head, wiping at the tears that finally started to fall.

“I can’ lose her,” he whispered.

“I’m doing everything I can to make sure that doesn’t happen,” McCoy assured him. “Do you want to stay here with her?”

“Aye,” Scotty said, sniffing hard shaking his head. “I’m not leaving her.”

“I’m gonna find you a chair, sit tight,” McCoy said, padding from the room.

Scotty stepped up to the head of your bed and looked down at you. A small device stuck to your temple, monitoring your brain for signs of swelling, bleeding, or… or what? Signs of life? Scotty touched your hair with his fingertips, letting the tears fall freely in McCoy’s absence.

“Don’ leave me,” he pleaded.


	12. So We've Just Got to Live With This?

“Jim, please, I’m beggin’ ye-”

“Scotty, Bones said you can’t be in there right now, I’m sorry,” Jim planted both hands on his friend’s chest, pushing the smaller man back down into his chair. “He’ll be out in a minute, and you’ll be able to see her soon, alright?”

“I need ta know…” Scotty tried to push Jim back. Jim stood firm, pressing on Scotty’s shoulders to keep the Scot seated.

“I know, Scotty, I know,” Jim said. “Soon, Scotty, soon.”

The door to the private room opened across the hall and the two men stopped pushing against each other. The door slid closed again and McCoy stepped toward them. Scotty brushed Jim’s hands from his shoulders and stood.

“How is she? Is she a’righ’? Can I see her?” Scotty spouted, breathing heavily in the silence. “What’s happening? Say somethin’!”

“Scotty, I’ve got a question for you,” McCoy said, sucking his teeth.

“What?” Scotty asked, his heart sinking. “Is she okay?”

“She’s awake. She’s stable,” McCoy conceded. “Scotty, who’s Tosh?”

Scotty blinked at the doctor and swallowed hard.

“Why?”

“Who’s Tosh?” McCoy repeated. Jim stepped next to the doctor and watched Scotty’s face drain of colour.

“Tosh was… Tosh was Y/N’s first… her first partner. High school… why? Please? Why?”

McCoy ran a hand hard over his face, choosing his words carefully.

“When Y/N woke up, the first thing she asked was ‘where’s Tosh?’” he said, watching Scotty’s face crease. “She had no idea where she was. No idea who I was. All she wants to know is where Tosh is.”

“She forgot more,” Scotty said, deadpan. He couldn’t feel his hands. He couldn’t feel his own heart beating in his chest. He couldn’t think.

“I fear she might have,” McCoy nodded.

“Can I see her?” Scotty asked.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea -”

“I know who Tosh is. I want to help her. She’s probably scared,” Scotty said. His voice sounded hollow, even to him. “I need to help her. I have to see her.”

“Scotty, I don’t know,” Jim said, reaching toward his friend.

“I can keep it together,” Scotty said, trying to imbue his voice with more confidence. “Let me in.”

“What are you going to do when she doesn’t remember you?” McCoy asked. “It didn’t go so well last time. And she’s missing a lot more now. This week didn’t even happen for her.”

Scotty sucked his teeth, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest.

“Is she alright otherwise?” he finally asked.

“She’s completely stable. Her readings are all completely normal. I’m hopeful that she’s going to be able to avoid another episode,” McCoy said.

“Do you know what happened?” Scotty asked.

“I can’t figure it out,” McCoy admitted. “I honestly can’t. Every single scan, test, and reading I’m getting off her brain is completely normal. It’s like nothing ever happened. I can’t explain it.”

“So we’ve just go’ to sit back and live wi’this?” Scotty rounded on the doctor.

“For the time being,” McCoy held out a hand. “I’m going to keep an eye on her, make sure she stays in stable condition, make sure this doesn’t happen again, and then I’m going to get back to figuring out how to recover some of her memories. If my guess is correct,” McCoy eyed both men for a moment, “her memories are still in there. She hasn’t called me ‘Len’ in three weeks. I’m convinced that there are memories still up there.”

“Really?” Jim asked.

“I can’t see any evidence to suggest otherwise.”

Scotty nodded, looking at the door to your room.

“Scotty, go home,” Jim said suddenly. “Let Bones keep doing his thing. We’ll have better answers if we let him work.”

Scotty nodded again, silently slipping past the two men and leaving the medbay.

“Jim, I don’t know how this is going to go,” McCoy muttered. “I’ve had the same conversation with her three times in a row. She just keeps asking about this Tosh person.”

“Can I talk to her?” Jim asked.

“I’d rather you than him,” McCoy looked in the direction Scotty went. “I’m worried about him.”

“Did they sleep together that night?” Jim lowered his voice.

“Yeah,” McCoy answered.

“Do you think that was too much for her? Like, not just that, but going out? Drinking? Too many people? Too much input?”

“I can’t see why it would have been…” McCoy mused.

“Let’s go in,” Jim patted his friend’s shoulder.

McCoy lead him into your room.

Jim watched as you sat up in the biobed, eyeing him like a feral child.

“Who are you?” you asked

“My name’s Jim,” Jim said. He pointed at the chair next to the bed. “May I?”

You nodded.

“I’m Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” Jim said, the words feeling foreign in his mouth. He’d forgotten to ask McCoy how old you thought you were. Or is that not how it works?

“Where am I?” you asked.

Jim exchanged a look with McCoy, who raised an eyebrow.

“You’re on the Federation Starship Enterprise,” Jim said. “Have you heard of it?”

“Is it Starfleet?”

“That’s right,” Jim licked his lips. “Doctor McCoy here tells me you’re looking for Tosh.”

“Who’s Tosh?” you asked.

Jim looked at McCoy with wide eyes. McCoy looked back just as bewildered and grabbed a tricorder.

“I’m just gonna do a scan, darlin’, is that alright?” McCoy asked quietly.

You nodded, watching the tricorder node move around your head.

“Y/N, you had an accident,” McCoy explained. “We’re trying to get you back home. Can you tell us where home is?”

You were silent for a moment.

“I don’t remember.”

McCoy looked at Jim for a moment, preparing the next question carefully.

“Darlin’, where are you from?”

You stayed silent.

“Darlin’?”

“Um…” you tried.

“Bones.”

“Jim?”

“She’s bleeding.”


	13. You Look Sad

“Are you absolutely certain?” Jim asked, looking at the readings over Spock’s shoulder.

“I am,” Spock responded. “Captain, although I respect your decision not to send down a second away team -”

“I’m starting to reconsider,” Jim admitted. “Can you isolate the source of the signature?”

“It seems to be emanating from this mountain range,” Spock said, pulling up a topographic diagram of the planet’s surface. He indicated a plot of two square kilometres. “This area in particular.”

“That’s nowhere near where we sent the away team down… We don’t have much time do we?” Jim asked, rubbing his face.

“The last instance of this signature that we were able to record only lasted for twenty minutes,” Spock confirmed. “However, now that we have coordinates -”

“We might have time,” Jim said. “We also might not. I want an away team ready in five minutes.”

The captain stepped away from the console to the turbolift.

“I’ll be leading,” he added over his shoulder.

“Captain, taking into consideration the lack of success of the last mission -”

“Spock, that’s exactly why I’m going,” Jim said, turning as the turbolift doors opened, revealing Scotty. “You have the ship, Mr. Spock.”

“Captain?” Scotty asked, reaching out and grabbing Jim’s arm. “What’s going on?”

“Scotty…” Jim chewed his cheek for a moment. “Walk with me.”

The Scot stayed in the lift and the captain joined him. They hurtled down to the medical deck.

“Listen, we might have found the same radioactive signature that we read shortly before the attack,” Jim said, watching Scotty’s face.

“And you’re going down to see?” Scotty finished. “I though’ you weren’t sending another team.”

“I don’t want to, but if we’ve got a chance to save Y/N…”

“Then I’m coming, too.”

The lift doors opened and Jim started down the hall to the medbay.

“Scotty, I can’t let you go, most days you’re the only thing keeping this ship together -”

“Jim,” Scotty said firmly, stopping the captain in his tracks with a hard grip on his elbow. “The woman I love is fading away in that medbay. I’m no’ gonna sit here on my hands. I’m coming with you.”

Jim sighed heavily.

“Fine. We’re leaving in four minutes.”

Scotty gave a curt nod and followed Jim into sickbay.

“Jim?” McCoy asked from the far end of the room.

“Bones, where’s M’Benga?”

“Why?”

“We’re going down.”

“The hell you are!” McCoy exclaimed. “Do you have a deathwish? Sorry, Scotty, but Jim, have you seen Y/N? If you go down there -”

“Bones, it might be the only way to get answers for her,” Jim said. “I need M’Benga, you’re staying here.”

“Jesus,” McCoy cursed, stalking away to find the other doctor.

Scotty took the opportunity to sidle away from the captain. He slipped into your room while the two men argued.

You sat on the biobed twisting your fingers together in your lap.

“Y/N?” he asked in a soft voice.

You looked up, a vacant expression on your face.

“Hi,” Scotty said, stepping up to your bed.

“Where am I?” you asked.

“You’re safe,” Scotty said. “We’re gonna fix you.”

“Are you a doctor?” You asked.

“Nae,” Scotty said, reaching down and offering you his hand. You took it.

“You look sad,” you said. “Is everything ok?”

“Aye,” Scotty wiped at his eyes. “Well… my wife is sick.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” you said, stroking his knuckles with your thumb. “She’s going to be alright.”

“How d’ya know?” Scotty watched your face, so unphased and smooth.

“Well you’re a doctor, aren’t you?”

“Aye.

“Where am I?”

“You’re safe,” Scotty said, leaning in, closing his eyes, and kissing your forehead. “I’m gonna fix you.”

“You look sad.”

“Scotty?”

Scotty turned around and Chapel was watching him from the doorway. He looked back at you and smiled, letting your hand go and leaving with the nurse.

“What the hell were you doing in there?” McCoy barked as soon as the door shut.

“I wanted to see her one last time.”

“Christ, just a glutton for punishment aren’t’cha?” Bones waved a hand accusingly at the engineer. “She’s getting worse.”

“Tha’… tha’ doesn’t even look like amnesia anymore…” Scotty said.

“No,” McCoy agreed. “It’s starting to look more like dementia, if you ask me. Look, Scotty, whatever you find down there… I wouldn’t hold out hope.”

“Is she going to die?” Scotty asked, numbness creeping through his body.

“I have a sneaking suspicion,” McCoy nodded gravely. “If she keeps going at the rate she has been… If she starts losing motor control, I’m afraid she might only have a few hours left.”

Scotty looked down at his shoes and nodded.

“Scotty?” Jim asked, coming back up to him with M’Benga. “What’s going on?”

“Le’s go, Jim,” Scotty said, looking up at his friend.

“Scotty, what’s…”

“I think Y/N is going to die, Jim,” McCoy said.  “She’s not even really in there anymore -”

“Tha’s wrong,” Scotty cut in, one last spark in him flaring up. “She’s still in there. I just spoke to her. She mi’ no’ know which way’s up, but she’s in there.”

“I wish it wasn’t the case,” McCoy continued with a grimace. “You better come back in one piece, now, y’hear? And if you find anything -”

“We’ll send it to you immediately,” Jim nodded. “Come on,” he finished, leading Scotty and M’Benga from sickbay.


	14. Don't Go

Your head bobbed back and forth and you hummed as a handsome man with dark hair and beautiful blonde woman bustled around you. They tapped at colourful computer screens and exchanged hushed words.

“- really going down there?” the woman whispered.

“God knows why; they’re all gonna get themselves killed,” the man responded in a low growl.

“Who’s dying?” you asked.

“No one, sweetheart,” the woman said, reaching out and touching your arm.

“Where am I?” you asked. The word was on the tip of your tongue, this place was so familiar… was it the smell? “Am I in a hospital?”

“Sort of,” the man responded, running a scanning node around your head.

“Am I dying?”

The two exchanged a look before the woman said, “Not if we can help it.”

“What’s killing me? I feel fine,” you said, mentally running your consciousness over your body. Everything felt in place.

“Nothing’s killing you sweetheart, you’re going to be fine,” the woman said.

“Oh,” you responded. What was she talking about? “Where am I?”

The woman smiled sadly at you and looked at the man who pursed his lips and turned back to his computer screen, tapping a few commands before typing madly.

You smelled something… antiseptic?

“Am I in a hospital?”

You felt fine. But there was a twinge of pain at the base of your skull.

“I…” what were you going to say? Your head hurt.

“What’s up, sweetheart?” a beautiful blonde woman said.

“Am I in a hospital?”

The pain bloomed into your brain and you whined.

“Does something hurt?” the woman asked.

“My head,” you said.

“Shit, it’s starting again,” the man grumbled, grabbing a large, hand-held device that he pulled apart revealing a see-through screen with bright colours on it.

“Where am I?” you groaned.

“Just sit still sweetheart, you’re going to be fine,” the woman cooed.

“I can’t see a fucking thing,” the man hissed. “Can you gauge the pain for me? One to ten?”

“What pai- ah!” you cried out at the sudden explosion of pain at the front of your skull.

“Shit.”

“Can you see anything?” a woman’s voice asked. You knew that voice.

“Not a damn thing,” a man’s voice. So familiar…

You cried out as the pain grew. Your brain felt hot, like it was melting and threatening to spill over.

“Have we heard from the away team?”

“Not yet. I don’t think they’ve even left the ship yet.”

Away team.

“Scotty’s not going to have anything to come back to at this rate -”

Scotty. Away team.

The pain stabbed at the backs of your eyes.

“Doctor McCoy!” came the woman’s voice. “She’s bleeding.”

“Damnit!”

A flurry of motion, boots on deck plating, equipment clattering against itself.

Away team. Ship. Scotty. Scotty. Away team. Scotty. Monty. Away team. No. No. No.

Your eyes flew open and you pushed yourself off the table.

“Y/N!” Len’s voice was behind you. His fingertips brushed your arm as you started to run. You whirled around, your hands up. Your fist connected with Len’s cheekbone. Chapel screamed, rushing around the bed, making to grab you.

You burst through the door to your private room, stumbling into the sickbay proper. Clutching your head, you looked around to see nurses running for you. No. No. No.

Darting for the door, you ducked under the arms of one of the nurses - Tanis? - and careened out of sickbay into the blindingly white hallway.

You screamed and pulled your hands to your head. There were footsteps behind you.

Away team. Scotty.

Barrelling down the hallway, you made it to the turbolift and mashed the command for the transport deck with a bloodsoaked thumb.

Each pump of your heart flooded more thoughts into your head.

The away team. The aliens. The instrument they used to hold your head still as they stuffed that thing up your nose…

The door swished open and you fell into the hallway. Scrambling up, you ran for a moment on all fours before regaining your footing only to slip on a patch of blood that dripped from the side of your head.

You heaved a breath and steadied yourself, issuing another scream to ease the tension. The tang of blood dripped out of your mouth, the red stuff pooling under your tongue as it trickled down the back of your throat from your nose.

The transporter room door was right there. One step, two steps.

The last thing you remembered thinking about before you were certain that you were going to die was Monty. His beautiful eyes, his charming voice, his everything. The light of your life.

The door to the transporter room was closed but you heard the word “energize” through the steel as you slammed a bloody palm on the panel to open the door.

“Monty, don’t go!” you cried as you tumbled to the floor, twisting with a fresh wave of pain.

There was a flurry of sound. Voices. The shrill whine of the transporter override.

There were hands on you. Alien hands? You rolled to try to shirk them off, but they held firmly to your arms, pulling you until your head settled into a soft, warm lap.

“Y/N! Y/N, I’m here.”

“God, Captain, her eyes…”

“Her ears…”

“M’Benga -”

“Monty,” you moaned, sure your head was going to liquefy in seconds. “Don’t go. Don’t go.”

“I’m ri’ here,” he responded, “Jim…”

“Kirk to Mc-”

“I’m here, Jim,” Len’s voice mingled with the others. You strained to hear Monty’s.

“Don’t go.”

“I’m not leaving you,” he assured you, his hands skimming up your arms to pull your hands off your head.

“Thanks,” Len said. You heard a beep.

“It’s a trap,” you wheezed, feeling your consciousness fading again. Is this it? “Don’t go down there, they’re going to… it’s a trap.”

“We won’t, Love, we won’t,” he stroked your hands with his thumbs.

“Don’t go, don’t… go… don’t…” you breathed. Your voice wouldn’t start. He needed to know. Don’t go. Don’t go. Don’t go.

“I see it!” Len exclaimed. “Beam us directly to sickbay, now!”

“Aye, sir.”


	15. Can I Touch Her?

Scotty looked down at your head. You had gauze stuffed up your nose and in your ears. A tube ran into your mouth to make sure you could breath with all the shit blocking your airway.

“Scotty?” McCoy asked, standing at the foot of the bed with his arms crossed, watching his friend watching you.

“I’m listening,” Scotty mumbled. “Can I touch her?”

“Yeah. Just don’t move anything.”

Scotty reached down and trailed the backs of his fingers down your cheek before resting his fingertips on the round of your shoulder.

“It was a Carthisian silkworm,” McCoy started, “They’ve got advanced camouflaging abilities, which is why I couldn’t find the damn thing. I honestly thought it was brain tissue.”

When Scotty didn’t respond, the doctor kept going.

“They’ve got an average lifespan of about thirty days. It would have had to have been inserted after it reached adolescence at least, so maybe eight days old. The reason this… the reason she started to get worse was because it was dying.”

“She was never supposed to survive,” Scotty mumbled.

“That’s my thought exactly,” McCoy ventured, stepping around the bed to stand across from his friend. “I think we were supposed to follow the away team down right away, if what Y/N said was true about it being a trap.”

“It was true,” Scotty said firmly.

McCoy nodded, chewing his lip.

“The Carthisian silkworm secretes this mucus that has memory limiting properties,” McCoy continued. “It’s incredibly illegal stuff. If and when it’s used, it’s usually rendered down into a liquid medication. To have one of these actually put into your brain… I can’t even imagine what that must have been like. That’s likely why she was the only one who made it back.”

“She was the lucky one,” Scotty mused, trailing his fingers up to your hair and stroking them through the oily strands. “So… now that it’s out…”

“I still don’t know what we’re in for,” McCoy said. “She might make a full recovery. She might not.”

“She might forget still,” Scotty clarified.

“It’s entirely possible,” McCoy nodded. “There are a few other factors here that are complicating my prediction.”

“Like?” Scotty looked up at the doctor, wishing this could be as cut and dry as, say, a coolant leak.

“Like the scarring the thing left behind,” McCoy said. “It… it started to swell as it died and that increased the pressure in her head. That very pressure, though, was what cut off the input of the mucus into her system. That’s why she remembered.”

“What else?”

“Well, there was a lot of bleeding. I’ve done what I can to clean her up, Scotty, but we’ve got to wait until she wakes up to see what we’re working with.”

Scotty nodded shallowly.

“If I stay with her…”

McCoy raised his eyebrow.

“Scotty you can stay as long as you want,” he said after a few moments of heavy silence. “If she wakes up and I’m not here… start with simple questions. Ask her her name, where she was born, stuff like that. Easy stuff. Don’t get too eager, as strong as your desire to do so may be.”

Scotty nodded, seating himself on the bed.

“I’m staying then,” he whispered. “Do you know how long it’ll take?”

“At least a few more hours,” McCoy said. “She’s also got to metabolise the meds I gave her.”

Scotty was silent for a long minute.

“Anyway, I have other rounds to make,” McCoy huffed. “You know where to find me.”

“Aye,” Scotty mumbled before looking over his shoulder. “McCoy?”

“Yeah?” McCoy let his hands wander into his pockets as he listened.

“Thank you. I don’t… I just… Anyway. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” McCoy nodded, looking down at you in the bed. “For what it’s worth? I’m really hoping she comes out of it. For both of you. You deserve it.”

McCoy slipped out of the room, leaving Scotty to watch you shallowly suck air through a tube. McCoy had to shave a large patch of hair from the front of your head. You weren’t going to be pleased about that. The scar protruded within the square on your scalp, thick and purple. The bruising washed down the side of your face, blues and purples and faint yellows all swirling together on your skin. Thin crusted rivulets of blood rested in the creases of the bags under your eyes.

The gauze in your face remained white, Scotty noticed. Maybe that meant the bleeding finally stopped. Maybe if the bleeding stopped, you’d make it. Maybe if McCoy did everything right, you’d come back to life the same charismatic, head-strong woman you left as that day weeks ago.

Not that that woman ever left, Scotty remembered, a smile threatening to form. From the start you were worried about everyone else. Always calming him when he had a moment. Reassuring him that everything was going to be alright when you had no idea one way or the other whether it was going to be. You, the woman he fell in love with, never left. Not even for a moment.

“Hey,” Scotty whispered, stroking your arm as he watched you. “I’m here.”

Part of him cringed at the knowledge that what he was saying to you meant nothing. You couldn’t hear him. Part of him had to talk.

“I heard you,” he murmured. “I… I never though’ I’d hear you call me tha’ again. I though’ I was doomed to be Scotty from now on,” he huffed a laugh. “I mean, there are worse things, I suppose. I just… listen, I don’ know if you can hear me,” he confided, stilling his fingers on your arm and squeezing. “But I need you to know that I’m here. I’m no’ leaving. We’re no’ going down to that damn planet anymore, no’ one way or the other. You’re going to be a’righ’, McCoy said so. We don’t need to go back,” Scotty sniffed. “You probably saved our lives, y’know?”

He watched your chest rise and fall and he suppressed the urge to start crying. Instead he licked his lips and started stroking your arm again.

“Jus’… jus’ don’ leave me, a’righ’?” Scotty begged, tipping down and kissing your forehead, keeping far away from the scar on your scalp. “I’ll stay righ’ here. Jus’ don’ leave me.”


	16. What's Your Name?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a lot of inspiration for this scene from a story my mom told me about the aftermath of a car accident she and my dad were in. He had to wake her up over the course of the night and ask her really difficult “easy” questions to make sure her memory was still intact. And now that Mom’s reading this series with y’all, I thought I’d share. I hope you enjoy!

Is this what it feels like to be dead? It’s blissful, like the moments coming down from orgasm when your limbs fill with sugary warmth and your mind loses traction.

But surely the afterlife would not smell like the sickbay. That other note… there in the background… it’s him. The afterlife would smell like him, smoky and steely, hot and cold, but all him. All Monty.

Expand the diaphragm, drag in air, and open the eyelids. Open. They take a moment, they’re glued shut by sleep and something grainy, but they open and you stare into the white-lit ceiling in sickbay. This is Long-Term Room 3. You know that crack in the light covering. You stayed here with Monty when he shattered his ankle in the shuttle bay. McCoy had to pin him back together nearly from scratch. It took the better part of three days.

You cast your eyes down to the warm heat on your hip. A beautiful mess of strawberry hair flops over Monty’s eyes as he sleeps. His fingers rest in a tangle with yours.

Gently you pry your fingers free and you lift your hand just enough to ghost the tips over Monty’s cheek, slick with oil and the salty remnants of tears.

He, too, breathes and his eyes open. He watches you for a long moment before lifting himself from you. As he stands from the chair, you have to let your fingers fall back to the mattress.

“Y/N?” He croaks, fresh tears welling along his lashes.

“Hi,” you breathe.

“Oh my God,” he smiles, tipping over you but stopping too far away for you to reach. You try to lift yourself, but you’re heavy.

“Hi,” you whisper again.

“I-” he pauses, considering. “What’s your name?”

You blink at him as your chest blossoms with dread and compassion, knowing what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling, and why.

“I’m here, my love,” you whisper, trailing your fingers along the mattress to brush against his pant leg. “My name is Y/N Scott.”

His words choke in his chest. Two fat tears roll down his cheeks and he squeezes his eyes shut just before placing a hand over them to hide.

“And… and me…”

“You are Montgomery Scott,” you say, knotting the loose fabric of his trousers around the tip of your index finger. “Lieutenant Commander. Chief Engineer of the USS Enterprise. My husband.”

“Oh God…” Monty explodes, sinking to his knees as he starts to sob.

His head comes to rest on your bicep. You curl your arm and circle his skull, brushing through the wisps of his hair with your fingernails.

“I’m so sorry, my love,” you murmur. Your exhaustion does not let tears form even though your heart has burst and everything you have is flowing through your skin into your husband. “I’m here. All of me.”

He nods between sobs, sniffing back loud, wet nosefulls of snot as he tries to pull himself back together.

“Do you…” he lifts his head and regards you with puffed red eyes and a wet face. “Do you remember…”

“Every moment,” you say, moving your fingers to his face and wiping the tears away. “I remember all of it. That lunacy with Jim, finding my diary, dancing with you, waking up next to you,” you cup his face in your palm and he smiles at you, a broken smile, placing his own hand on yours. “I remember seeing you while I was in here. I remember how soft you were with me. I remember running to find you in the transporter room…”

“Does that mean you remember the pain?” he asks, brushing your face with the backs of his fingers.

“Every moment,” you repeat. “I didn’t think I was going to get any of those moments.”

“Tha’ makes two of us,” Monty coughs as he lets his smile falter. He glances up at the screen above you and licks his lips. “I don’ know wha’ else to ask…” Monty tries so hard to keep smiling, but his face crumbles again and he presses his forehead to your collarbone, soaking your shirt.

“My love,” you murmur. “We should call Len in. He needs to see me.”

Monty nods, pressing a kiss to your throat before lifting his head and kissing you softly like he’s going to break you. You press your lips back as hard as you can but the effort is draining.

There’s a soft beep and you know he’s called Len. He doesn’t move, he just strokes his thumb along your cheekbone while he kisses you.

“You’re certainly not wasting any time,” Len jokes as he steps into the room.

Monty pulls back and straightens himself next to you. Len walks up the other side of the bed smirking at your husband before looking down at you.

“Mornin’, darlin’, how do you feel?” He whips out his tricorder and gets to scanning.

“Better,” you breathe. “Sorry about your face.”

Len grins.

“You remember that, huh?”

“Yeah,” you crack a smile. “Thanks for everything, Len.”

“We’re not outta the woods yet,” he says, replacing his tricorder in his pocket. “You’re looking good, Y/N. How’s the pain?”

“There is none.”

“Really?” He cocks an eyebrow. When you nod he says, “Must be the painkillers. You’ve got a two-inch incision in your scalp, small hole in your skull where I withdrew that sucker. You’re gonna feel that eventually.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you say, looking back at Monty who watches you with an intent stare. He’s got a nervous set to his mouth as he listens, like he wants to keep touching you to make sure you’re real.

“I just want to ask you a few questions, is that alright?” Len asks.

“Can we let Monty sit down first?” you ask.

“Not sure why he’s standing to be perfectly honest.”

Monty breathes out and sits on the bed, nestling his hip into your waist and wrapping your hand in both of his while Len starts to ask questions. He starts simply, what your full legal name is, where you were born, what your parent’s names are, your birthday. He asks you about your degrees, your time at Starfleet, your reassignment.

“Wha’s our anniversary?” Monty cuts in quietly. He’s not looking at you, but at your fingers in his grasp.

“September 16, 2262,” you answer, squeezing his hand. He closes his eyes and holds his breath. “It was a Tuesday.”

When Monty finally exhales, Len lays a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m going to get Jim, alright? He’s got some questions about the away mission.”

“I’m an open book,” you breathe, relaxing into the pillows as Len leaves.

“Tell me more,” Monty whines. “I wan’ tae hear more.”

“About our wedding day?”

Monty nods, kissing each of your fingers in turn.

“Well,” you lick your lips and wait until he opens his eyes to continue. “I’ve never seen a man look so good in a kilt. Or look so handsome while crying.”

Monty laughs and reaches up to wipe at his eyes.

“Ye’ve made me a weeper.”

“I can see that,” you stroke his thumb with yours. “Hey.”

He drops his hand to yours and looks at you like you’re on the way out.

“I’m alright now,” you assure him. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you.”

Monty presses his lips together between his teeth and shakes his head.

“You don’t have to stay,” you continue, squeezing his hand again. “When I’m talking to Jim. I don’t really want you to hear the story.”

“Why?” he asks. “Y’remember it, righ’?”

“In vivid detail,” you wince. “It’s… it was horrible, Monty. I just don’t want you to… you don’t have to carry the weight of this story with me.”

“I wan’ to,” he promises, reaching forward and brushing his fingertips over your cheek. “This has been the worst month of my life. I’m gonna see it through, at your side. I’m with you.”

You nod.

“I’m gonna see if I can get a few minutes before they show up,” you say, letting your eyes close.

“I’ll be here.”


	17. Epilogue: Let's Do That

The breeze kisses your face and you inhale the salty sweet scent of the beach. Shore leave is underway once again and the captain gifted you a suite on the top floor. One with a balcony.

Monty’s arm snakes around your waist and his nose brushes against the bristles on your scalp. You hum and lean back into him, pressing your back into the soft, damp flesh of his chest.

His other arm finds its way around you, tangling with yours and settling around your waist. You feel a rumble in his chest as his nose slides into the crook of your neck and he inhales the scent emanating off your pulse.

You tilt your head back into his shoulder, tipping your nose into his wet hair.

“We should steal the shampoo,” you muse. “I can’t replicate anything like this.”

“D’you remember our honeymoon?” Monty murmurs into your throat.

“What about it?” You grin. “I remember a lot of things from that week.”

“Tell me what you remember,” he murmurs, closing his teeth lightly around the flesh on your throat, drawing a gasp from you.

“Well,” you started, pressing your lips between your teeth. “I remember stealing all the shampoos every day.”

Monty snorts and kisses the flesh he bit, pulling back to inspect his work before moving lower and nibbling just above the tendon connecting your neck to your shoulder.

“Ah,” you moan, the sweet pain coursing through your body and forming a tight knot in your belly. “We really didn’t leave the hotel room.”

“We did a few times,” he protests.

“Just to have it cleaned,” you smile as he unwinds his hands from yours and lets his fingers flutter down your sides. You twist in his arms and let your own hands wander down his sides, caressing the flesh just above the towel wrapped around his hips. Your fingers spider around his body and you grab his ass through the towel.

He laughs once.

“How do you feel?” he asks.

“I’m better,” you promise, tipping up to look at him. He presses his mouth to your forehead and he starts to sway you back and forth, dancing to the music of the ocean. “Thank you for helping me with my hair.”

“It’s a surprisingly good look for you.”

“I like it,” you grin. “God, I missed this.”

“Well, I mean, ya had it once,” he mutters into your flesh.

“That I did,” you pull back and wrap your arms around his neck. “God, that was good…”

“You remember it?” he asks as he brings a hand up behind his head and captures one of yours so he can dance with you properly.

“If I remembered everything else, Monty,” you laugh, laying your forehead on his collarbone. “There’s one question I have, though.”

“Anything, Love,” he promises, kissing your scalp.

“When you finished… you were whispering something. I couldn’t understand what you were saying.”

Monty stops dancing and lifts his hand from your waist to your face, tilting back to look you in the eye.

“D’ya remember wha’ you were callin’ me?” he asks.

“I called you Scotty the whole time, didn’t I?” you ask, pressing your lips together. “You should have asked me not to -”

“I couldn’ even ask ye las’ time,” he laughs, stroking your cheek. “I nearly died when you pulled that one on me the firs’ time.”

You smile, remembering the moment. You were a fresh item, not dating for more than a few weeks. It was your fourth or fifth time in bed together. The way he grabbed you when the name passed your lips the first time left bruises.

“It killed me a little bit every time you didn’t call me that,” he murmurs, cupping the back of your head and leaning in to kiss you. “I was begging you to come back to me. And I couldn’t very well tell you I loved you out loud.”

“I knew,” you breathe. “Thank you for staying with me.”

“My darling, I’d never be anywhere else,” he kisses you again, dipping to wrap his arms tightly under your buttocks. He lifts you straight up in the hair, making you gasp in surprise. “Wha’ are we doin’ today?”

“Remember our honeymoon?” You grin watching the devilish glint spark in his eyes. “Let’s do that.”


End file.
